Replace My life
by LoireLoa
Summary: Join Harry as he: flees the Dursley's, defies Dumbledore, throws parties, plots with Slytherins, hunts Horcruxes, and acts like a teenaged boy. Sixth year. NOT HBP compliant.
1. Prelude: Remorseful Brooding

**Disclaimer:** _Harry Potter_ and its universe do not belong to me. I am borrowing it from J.K Rowling and whomever else she has licensed it's rights to. Don't sue, I'm a college student, and therefore, I have no money.

_To Bear, who gave me the idea in the first place. _

_-- Your sister_

Prelude: Remorseful Brooding 

It works both ways.

I can see through his eyes, and he can see through mine.

I found that out last year, when Sirius was taken.

Taken… no, I killed him. I am just as responsible for his death as Bellatrix is. I let myself be lured there. I didn't practice Occulmency; I didn't wait for an adult to help. I didn't use the mirror.

_Why didn't I use the mirror?_

It's what he gave it to me for: to contact him in case of an emergency. He'd probably been trying to use it all year, and because I _stupidly_ vowed not to let my curiosity get the better of me, he's dead. If only I'd used it. _I could have at least taken it out of my trunk! It was a gift! I was meant to use it! If only…_

I turn to my right and gaze out of the dirty window of my bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive. If only I had acted some other way, trusted some other person, said some other things. Does he know I love him? That I miss him? How I wish I could go back… how I wish I could undo my foolishness…

But I can't. I can't change the past. If I could, I wouldn't be at the Dursley's; I'd be with my parents.

_My parents._

For the fist time I can remember, it hurts to think of them.

I bet they're disgusted with me. I think to myself, turning from the murky view of the setting sun. I bet they're watching me right now, wondering what I was _thinking_ when I led those five into the Ministry. They could have died. My recklessness could have killed them – would have killed them, if the Order hadn't shown up…

But that can't be completely my fault, right? I mean, I tried to stop them; I _tried_ to keep them from going…

But I know in my heart that I didn't try hard enough. If I had really wanted to keep them safe, I would have aborted the mission when I saw how intent they were on following me.

Hermione was right -- I _do_ have a saving people thing. I shouldn't have gone. But I didn't listen to reason, and no Sirius has paid the ultimate price.

Sirius…

I'm sorry. I'll be better, if not for me, then for you. I'll avenge your death, by smiting your other murderer.

I will learn, and when I do, Bellatrix won't stand a chance.

I will kill Voldemort, and his Death Eaters will pay.

I swear it.


	2. Ch 1: Return to Confinement

**Chapter 1: Return to Confinement**

_Dear Hermione,_

_How are you? Good I hope. I hope you didn't get in trouble with your parents for what happened at the Ministry. You were right -- I do have a saving people thing. I hope that I can sort that out. I'd never forgive myself if something happened to you and/or Ron. I hope you guys can forgive me for being so stupid. I promise I'll try harder not to act without thinking. Will you help me with that?_

_The Dursleys are starving me again. What are the chances of your mom sending me some of those delicious brownies? You know, the ones with the fudge frosting? I'd like that. As always I can't wait until summer is over._

_Hope your summer is better than mine._

_Harry _

_PS: How's Vicky?_

_Dear Ron,_

_All I've been able to think about since I've returned to this hellhole Dumbledore forces me to call home is Sirius. I honestly can't believe I was that reckless. Well, I can but I'd rather not. Hermione was right. I do have a saving people thing. I need to fix that. Quickly, before I get anyone else killed._

_The Dursleys have been treating me even worse than they usually do, now that they've found out about Sirius' death. They blame me (so do I) and rub it in my face constantly. Sometimes I can't take it and I just… snap. I start yelling back, and that's when things get really ugly -- Uncle Vernon or Dudley throttles me, and Aunt Petunia withholds food from me for days. I think I've lost as much weight as Dudley's gained, and that's saying something. _

_I hate them; I really, really hate them. _

_Harry_

_PS: Ask your mom if she'll send me some food or a nutritional supplement. Or something. _

I finished my letter to Ron and tied it, and my letter to Hermione, to Hedwig's leg and sent her off.

"What a nightmare last term was." I sigh to myself.

My stomach growls, and I remember that I hadn't eaten since… since nearly a week and a half ago. I shake my head. I _cannot_ believe that I haven't eaten a proper meal since school let out for the holidays. My stomach growls again, and I grimace at the thought of continuing my liquid diet. There's only so much that tap water can do for you.

"What I wouldn't give for some pumpkin juice and a treacle tart…" My stomach growls again. "I hear you, I hear you." I tell it, wrapping my arms around myself. Oh god, was I just talking to my _stomach_? _Out loud_? I must be losing it. I need food, before I go crazy. My stomach growls again. Loudly. I can't believe it's come to this.

"Kreacher!" I whisper, trying not to wake my relatives. "Kreacher!"

Nothing.

Damned good-for-nothing house elf… what's the point of having one if it doesn't do as you say? Note to self: strangle Kreacher.

"Kreacher!" I cry out in desperation as my stomach growls painfully for the umpteenth time. Scratch strangling him; I'm going to _murder_ him when he gets here. Right after he brings me something to eat. "Bloody good for nothing…"

"Nasty little half-blood calling Kreacher, waking Kreacher up in the middle of the night…"

"Kreacher!" I whirl around to face him. "You will not speak ill of your master. Not even your _dead_ master, understood?"

He glares at me. "Kreacher understands. Kreacher doesn't like but Kreacher will obey. Not like Kreacher has a choice…"

I choose to ignore his childish ranting for now. There are more pressing matters at hand. "Bring me some food. Some delicious food that is not burnt, is not spoiled, and _is not poisoned_, understand?"

"Kreacher understands. Kreacher will not poison the young ha—master. Not like Kreacher could…"

"Good, go, and be quick about it."

"Yes master." Kreacher says as he bows and disappears.

I flop over onto my bed with a weary sigh. God, how did it come to this?


	3. Ch 2: 4th Meal is Served

**Chapter 2: 4th Meal is Served**

Kreacher returned with a tray full of delicious food. Or at least it smelled delicious. There's really only one way to be sure, after all.

"Thanks." I said taking the lid off the tray. It had a small roast, potatoes, stewed tomatoes, pumpkin juice, and several delicious-looking pastries. "Fourth meal: the late night meal between dinner and breakfast."

"Master mumbles weird things, he does."

"You can go now, Kreacher."

"Thank you, master."

"Now," I said, turning back to the tray, "to fill my belly."

The food was gone before the Dursley's were even able to smell it. And it was just as tasty as it smelled. I let out a satisfied belch as I reclined on my bed and rubbed my stomach to aid digestion. I hadn't been this full since Christmas. I smiled to myself. Kreacher may not like me, but at least he can't starve me. It was comforting, in an odd sort of way. Maybe I could have him grab my books out the cupboard. I'd summon them myself, but I'm not allowed to do magic outside of school. Maybe Kreacher –

Kreacher.

My eyes snapped open. As a realization hit me like a speeding bludger.

Why is it that I'm old enough to inherit a house, two massive fortunes, a house elf, and who knows what else, but I'm not allowed to do magic outside of school? By technicality, I should be considered an adult, right? The Dursleys took me in, but they never _adopted_ me. So I'm still an orphan. Or perhaps I'm a ward of the state? In any case, I'd have to be the age of majority to inherit a _house_ – or any property for that matter. Right? So why can't I do magic outside of school?

I sat back pondering this new revelation for a moment. Perhaps I should write Dumbledore? No, he never answers my questions. The Ministry? Would they even answer? Not likely. Then who? Who else would know that kind of information, let alone be compelled to tell me the truth? A bank might be able to explain it to me. After all, they are the ones who handle inheritance. Perhaps I should write Gringotts? It's worth a shot, I suppose. What's the worse that could happen? I think as I begin to write.

_To Whom It May Concern:_

_My name is Harry James Potter, and I am contacting you in regard to a few questions I have, that I hope you will have the answers to._

_Recently, I inherited a property by the name of Grimauld Place from my newly deceased godfather, Sirius Icarius Black. Having been raised by my Muggle relatives, and therefore, not at all privy to the workings of magical law, I thought this quite odd. In the magical community, I am not legally old enough to perform magic outside of school, as I will only be sixteen as of July 31st. I was wondering, therefore, how is it that I am legally old enough to inherit several (massive) fortunes, and a house (and with it, it's house-elf), if I am, indeed, a minor?_

_Moving on:_

_I would like to know if I could perhaps arrange a meeting with a representative of your establishment. I am curious as to the extent of my wealth, and I would like to know if there are any other properties (and house-elves) in my possession. I would also be interested in restoring my ancestral home at Godric'c Hollow, if needed._

_I am looking forward to hearing from you soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry J. Potter_

I'll mail it in the morning, I decide. There's no rush. They're probably closed right now anyway. And Hedwig's still out. And… I yawned… I'm tired, and so very full. It can wait.

I returned to my bed and snuggled underneath the itchy, threadbare blanket. "At least I'm full…" I mumbled as I drifted off to sleep, content.

That contentment would only last so long…


	4. Ch 3: Unearned Punishment

**Chapter 3: Unearned Punishment**

A loud banging violently woke me from the most peaceful sleep I'd had in days.

My first thought that morning: I _hate_ the Dursleys.

"Boy!"

Uncle Vernon, just who I want to see first thing in the morning. _NOT._ I drag myself out of bed and open the door.

"Yes Uncle Vernon?" I say as I open the door. I wasn't ready for the hand that swiftly reached out to grab me, nor the fist that followed it. Uncle Vernon throttled me for a bit, and I was forced to let him. When he took off his belt however, I felt he'd gone too far.

"Stop it!" I screamed. "Stop hitting me you puce, elephant-sized excuse for a human being!"

"How DARE you talk to me like that! After I took your worthless arse in! After I fed you, and clothed you, and –"

"_Fed_ me?" I bellowed, "When did you do this? While I was _unconscious_ from all the wounds you've inflicted upon me? While I was _locked in a cupboard_ for the first eleven years of my life? If you've _fed_ me, then why is it the last time I remember eating was the last day of school? Why is it that I've lost more weight than your _whale of a son_ has gained?"

"Don't bite the hand that feeds you, boy!" roared Uncle Vernon, turning a spectacular shade of violet.

"I'm not biting_ the hand that feeds me_!" I yell back, "You'd actually have to _stop starving me_ and give me food to be the hand that feeds me!"

"You ungrateful little—"

"Ungrateful? _Ungrateful_? What exactly do I have to be _grateful_ for? You locked me in a _cupboard_ for the first eleven years of my life, _forced_ me to do dangerous chores that were far to difficult for my age and size, gave me the _disgusting_ hand-me-downs from your troll of a son, verbally and physically abused me _all my life_, _starved_ me, accused me of doing things that I _did not do_, punished _me_ for being smarter than Dudley, let the aforementioned _whale_ use me as his personal punching bag, accused me of trying to _kill_ him when I had actually _saved his life_, and you expect me to _thank _you? Are you _crazy_? That's like thanking Voldemort for murdering my parents!"

"_You,_ boy, are going to—"

"Dad!" Dudley yelled from somewhere downstairs, "Dad there's someone here to see you! It's a man! He says it's important!"

"_You_ are going to stay in this room! You _will not_ have supper, and you _will not_ be allowed out!"

"You can't keep me prisoner here forever!"

"Watch me!" Uncle Vernon said as he stormed out of the room and locked the door behind him. "You just watch and see!"

_Watch and see my ass._

"Kreacher!" I yelled. This time, the little vermin came swiftly.

"Yes, _master_?" he said cheekily.

"Don't sass me, you little parasite. Downstairs, there's a cupboard underneath the staircase. I want you to go in, and bring me everything that's in it. And you _must not be seen by anyone._"

"Yes, master." He says, sounding for the entire world like Dr. Frankenstein's assistant, Igor.

While Kreacher's downstairs, I start packing. There's no way in hell that I'm staying here. Why should I, when I have a house somewhere else? After all of my belongings are packed, I send Hedwig to Grimauld Place, telling her I'll be along shortly. I'm just making sure that I haven't forgotten anything, when Kreacher pops in.

"Were you seen?"

"No, master. Kreacher was not seen by anyone."

"Not even by the Muggles?" I ask, needing to make sure nobody knows about my escape.

"No, master. Nobody saw Kreacher." He answers with a little more sarcasm than usual.

"Good. Take all of my belongings to Grimauld Place. I've already sent Hedwig. I'll be along after I run some errands. Take my things to Sirius' old room. And if anyone asks, tell them you haven't seen me."

"Yes master." Kreacher says, bowing.

"Oh and Kreacher? I forbid you to punish yourself for lying to the others."

Kreacher's eyes widened to the size of soccer balls.

"From now on, unless I explicitly tell you otherwise, the only person you take orders from is _me_. Understand?"

"Yes sir, Master Potter, sir!" Kreacher says, with a little more enthusiasm (and respect) than I'm used to.

"Good. You may go." I tell him, and he disappears, taking my belongings with him.

As I board the Knight Bus (oh how I _loathe_ public transportation. All those watching eyes…), I remember what Hermione said about being kinder to Kreacher.

I guess she was right again; a little kindness _can_ make a world of difference.


	5. Ch 4: Errands

**Chapter 4: Errands**

I took the Knight Bus to Diagon Alley, and headed straight to Gringotts. For my plan to work, I'd need to have cash. _Lots, and lots of cash_.

"How can I help you?" the Goblin behind the counter inquires as I approach.

"I'd like to make a withdraw."

"Key please."

"I have it right here," I said, handing it over. "And there wouldn't be a way for me to obtain the balance and details of my assets, would there?"

"Yes, we can print you a statement if you'd like."

"I would, thank you."

"Certainly. Will that be all for you today?"

"No actually, I'll need to convert some of my money to pounds. I have some business in the Muggle world to take care of."

"Of course."

"And… is there any way that I could speak to someone who handles the assets passed on to an heir? I have a few question I'd like answered."

"You'll need to schedule an appointment for that. You are more than welcome to do that after you retrieve your funds."

"Ok, thank you," I said, taking my key back from the goblin.

"Of course," he responded. "Thank you for banking with Gringotts."

I followed a second goblin into a corridor and around a corner to the carts. As I whisked through the tunnels at breakneck speed, I reflected on what I planned to do. I have no idea why I didn't think of it before. The scar is what made me noticeable as the Boy-Who-Lived, and if I removed the scar, then I can have a bit more privacy. _And if _magic_ can't remove it, then I'll have it removed the Muggle way. _

The cart screeched to a halt, and I placed the key to my vault in the goblin's outstretched hand. After it was unlocked, I decided to take a good look around inside. To my disappointment, there was nothing but gold.

"You wouldn't happen to know if I have any other vaults, would you?"

"Yes," The goblin answered with an inquiring look on his face, "They are being held in trust by the Inheritance Department until you come of age."

"So I can't see them," I ask, slightly disappointed.

"Of course you can. You just can't make any withdraws, or remove any documents."

"Oh," I thought this over for a moment. "So if there was something other than money and documents, could I remove them?"

"It depends on the object or objects in question. What did you have in mind?"

"Oh, I don't know. Heirlooms. Personal items."

"Like…?"

"Pictures, furniture, jewelry, clothing. That sort of thing."

"You would be able to remove those, provided you didn't intend on selling or trading them."

"Oh, I'd never do something like that. I just… feel like they were stolen from me. My parents, I mean. I want to know what they were like."

"I suppose that would be agreeable. Would you like to do that now?"

"No. I can come back. I have more pressing issues to tend to at the moment."

"I see."

I filled my bag with coins, and rejoined the goblin in the cart, which set off back towards the surface. I resolved to make an appointment to come back and look through the other vaults_. I wonder what there is._ _There must be something. The vault's existence is proof enough of that. I wonder if there are any wizarding portraits of them?_ I mused. _Maybe then I could kind of talk to them…_

The abrupt stop of the cart jolted me out of my thoughts, and I hurried back across the main lobby and over to the counter marked "Currency Exchange".

"What's the galleon to pound exchange rate?" I asked, stepping up to the counter.

"Five pounds for every galleon, or thereabout."

"Ok. I'll need… five thousand seventy five pounds," I said, putting my bag of coins on the counter.

"As you wish."

I watched the goblin write something down, and disappear. He came back with my coin bag, and an envelope.

"Here you are, Mr. Potter," he said handing me my small bag of coins. "Five thousand and seventy five pounds, in large and small notes for your convince. Have a nice day."

I bid the goblin a good day, and left. The day was still quite early, and my appointment wasn't until two o'clock in the afternoon, so I left Diagon Alley and headed over to the Ministry.

After cramming myself into the phone booth and dialing the obligatory MAGIC, a woman picked up.

"State your name and business," she said in a bored voice.

"Harry Potter, Apparition License." I stated clearly.

The coin slot spit out a visitor's badge that read _Harry Potter, Apparition License Applicant_ in bold black letters.

"Thank you, and enjoy your visit to the Ministry of Magic," she replied as the phone booth began to sink into the ground.


	6. Ch 5:Shopping

**Chapter 5: Shopping**

Getting my apparition license was a piece of cake, and I was out of the ministry and on my way by eleven. It would cost me two thousand and fifty pounds to get my scar removed, and another fifteen for the cab ride from the doctor's to the Leaky Cauldron. The rest was mine to spend.

As I was already near the doctor's office, I decided not to stray too far. Looking around, I saw a small clothing shop and decided that I could _definitely_ use a new wardrobe. _These rags are _atrocious A little bell above the door announced my arrival, and a cute girl with long, wavy black hair, and Lee Jordan's complexion popped up by my side to greet me.

"Hello! Welcome to Repertoire. My name is Rein. What are you shopping for today?" she said cheerfully.

"Everything, I suppose," I replied, smiling at her.

"Everything?" she asked, with a confused look on her face. "What do you mean exactly?"

"I need a whole new wardrobe. Everything needs to be replaced, right down to my underwear."

"Oh. Well, I'll help you as best I can, but I think you should pick out your underwear by yourself," She said, treating me to a smile reminiscent of Fred and George. I decided I liked her.

"Well, if you insist," I said winking playfully.

Rein showed me around the store, and I spent the next two hours talking to her and trying things on. In the end, I purchased ten pairs of dress pants (two black, two gray, two tan, and one navy, one olive, one brown, and one burgundy), three pairs of jeans in just as many washes, seven dress shirts (three white, one black, one red, one blue and one pink – that was Rein's idea), four polo shirts (two white, one yellow, and one striped orange and blue), a pair of black leather boots and a matching trench coat (for the winter), some boxer-briefs, some socks, a pair of leather gloves, a hat (with a matching scarf – also for winter), three pairs of dress shoes (Rein _insisted_ I have two pair of black and one pair of white), and a pair of new tennis shoes.

"And you only spent two thousand and thirty-two pounds and fifteen pence," Rein said as she handed me my bag.

"I only spent that much because you used your cuteness to persuade me to," I replied, smiling at the innocent look she gave me.

"Who, me?"

"Yes you. What time is it?"

"Quarter after one."

"Ok. I've got a doctor's appointment at two."

"You'd better get going then."

We walked to the door together.

"Come and visit me sometime over the holidays. I'll give you my employee discount," she said conspiratorially. I smiled.

"I can't make any promises, but I'll try."

"Ok. Owl me."

"How did you know?"

"There's just something… magical about you. You go to…?"

"Hogwarts."

"Beauxbatons."

"Really?"

"Mmm. My dad's Potions Master there."

"Cool."

"I guess."

I looked at my watch. It read half past one.

"I'd better get going."

"Ok."

"I'll owl you though. Or what's your floo? I'll floo you."

"Number fourteen, Ambrosia Circle."

"Ok. Talk to you later then?"

"Sure."

I left Repertoire, and walked to the doctor's office, bags in hand. After about five minutes of filling out paperwork and waiting, a nurse came out into the waiting room.

"Harry Potter? Doctor Abaris will see you now."

I stood, picked up my bags, and followed the nurse to a room towards the back.

"She'll be with you in a moment."

I sat down, and looked around the room. It had white walls, light blue tile, and Spartan furnishings. It was well lit, and very, _very_ sterile.

"Hello."

I turned around, slightly surprised. Standing in the doorway was a tall, thin woman, with short gray hair and sparkling violet eyes.

"I'm Cynthia Abaris. You must be Mr. Potter. I'm sorry if I startled you."

"It's all right, I just didn't hear you come in, is all."

"I understand. Why don't you take your glasses off and have a seat on the table, and we'll get started."

As the anesthesia began to take hold of me, I let my thoughts drift. _I wonder what Hermione is doing. I wonder what Remus is up to. I'll bet Ron's eating. Ron's always eating…_

The last thought I had before my eyes dropped closed was what Hermione and Ron would say when they saw me.


	7. Ch 6: Grimmauld Place

**Chapter 6: Grimauld Place**

When I stepped into Grimauld Place, I was assailed by a cacophony of noises. There were people talking, a kettle whistling, and the footsteps of the dozens of visitors that were currently squatting here.

I followed the discord of voices up the stairs and into the drawing room, where an Order Meeting was well under way.

"I'm telling you, he's not just going to _leave_ them there!"

"He might, Minerva. He _is_ a sadistic bastard."

"But Malfoy is his right-hand man!"

"No, Minerva, that would be me."

"Hem, hem." I said, clearing my throat in a very Umbridge-like way to get attention. The room grew quiet for a moment, and then everyone began to speak at once.

"This is an Order Meeting!"

"No children in here!"

"Young man!"

"Harry, aren't you supposed to be at the Dursley's?"

"SILENCE!" Dumbledore bellowed. His wish was immediately granted.

"Mr. Potter, _what_ are you doing here?" he asked, astonished.

I rolled my eyes. "It's _my house_. What are _you_ doing here?"

"Arrogant as ever I see." Snape muttered.

"I'm not being _arrogant_, I'm merely stating a fact. This is my house. Sirius left it to me."

"Well, Mr. Potter, much as it pains me to say this –."

"With all due respect professor, shut up. This is my house, and you _will not_ disrespect me in it. If you do, you may just find that I am… less charitable to the Order than I once was."

"You --."

"Severus, that is quite enough." Dumbledore said sternly. "Harry, my dear boy, what brings you here?"

"I live here. Well, I do now. I've moved out of the Dursley's."

"May I inquire as to why?"

"Certainly. I'm tired of being abused by them."

"Abused?" Dumbledore echoed, frowning slightly.

"Yes. They were starving me, had been since school let out. I got so desperate, I had to summon Kreacher to bring me food."

"Is that so?"

"Yes. You can ask him if you'd like. I wrote Hermione and Ron about it, asking them to send me food. And that's not all they did."

"There's more?"

"Sadly, yes. They physically abused me as well. My uncle and cousin routinely beat me, for no reason at all. My aunt withheld food and water from me. I had to sneak a sip of water while I was in the bathroom or doing the outdoor chores."

"Really."  
"Yes. They kept me locked in my room, and before I came to Hogwarts, I didn't even _have_ a room. I had a _cupboard._"

"Oh my. Is there… anything else, you need to tell me?"

"Yes sir, but not about the Dursleys. I want to have Godric's Hollow restored. And I've had my scar removed."

"Have you now?"

"Yes." With that, I lifted my fringe to show him my smooth forehead. "I went to a Muggle cosmetic surgeon. I paid for it myself."

"What made you decide to _do_ such a thing?" Molly Weasley asked, aghast.

"My scar makes me a target. When people look for Harry Potter they look for two things: the scar, and the hair."

"So why not simply dye your hair?" Tonks inquired.

"Because even if my hair was different, I'd still be recognizable by the scar. It's what people notice most readily. I figured that if I didn't have the scar, people would just think I _looked_ like Harry Potter. And besides, I could always die my hair later."

Dumbledore nodded sagely. "I think it was a brilliant idea. The scar is what you're famous for, so if you didn't have it, you'd be in less danger."

"Exactly."

"I think that you should dye your hair as well. Just to be safe."

"Actually, I was going to do you one better. I have an appointment with an eye surgeon. I'm going to undergo a type of Muggle surgery known as laser eye correctional surgery. In a nutshell, they correct my vision so that I don't need glasses at all."

"Really!" Mr. Weasley said, his eyebrows disappearing into his hair. "How marvelous!"

"I'd still dye my hair, if I were you Harry." Tonks said.

"I don't think I'll dye it. What if I just lighten it? You know, bleach it."

"Wouldn't it be gray?" Minerva asked.

"I didn't think of that. I just don't want to go blonde or something. It'd be too drastic, I think."

"What about a brown rinse?" Remus asked. "That's close to black."

Dumbledore nodded. "I think that you might just be onto something, Remus."

"I agree."

"Well," Snape said, interrupting, "Now that we've decided what Potter will _look_ like, perhaps we can decide where he's going to _live_."

"Quite right, Severus." Dumbledore agreed.

"Why can't the boy stay here?" Moody demanded.

"Too many people know of this location." Molly said, "It's not safe."

"Any ideas as to where Harry can stay?" Dumbledore said, surveying the group.

"Actually sir," I said, causing him to turn towards me, "I have an idea."

"Well…?"

"Perhaps I could stay with Professor Snape for the summer? I need to learn Occulmency anyway, and I'd be in the company of an Order member more often than not."

"Hmm…" Dumbledore stroked his beard thoughtfully.

"Albus, you cannot be serious. I _loathe_ the boy!" Snape said, dismayed.

"Perhaps it is time that you set your differences aside, Severus."

"I agree," I said, surprising everyone, "it's in the best interest of the Order that we put our differences aside and work together. How can we fight our enemy, if we are busy fighting ourselves?"

"He has a point Severus." Minerva said. "We cannot expect to win if we cannot work together."

Snape folded his arms and huffed angrily. "Fine, but you will do as you are told without complaint, and you _will_ stay out of my way, and out of trouble."

"It's settled then," Dumbledore said, clapping his hands, "Harry will stay with Severus for the remainder of break."

Yes! My plan was going along perfectly.

"I'll need a few days to prepare for my… charge."

"I can stay here until you're ready for me to move in." I said, practically jumping for joy.

"Yes well… try not to look so bloody _happy_ about it…" Snape grumbled.


	8. Ch 7: Floo Call

**Chapter 7: Floo Call**

The next few days at Grimauld place passed uneventfully, and involved a lot of cleaning, to say the least. On the last day, I packed up all of my clothing and belongings, and called for Kreacher.

"Yes, Master Potter sir?" he said with a bow, "What can Kreacher be doing for you?"

"For the remainder of the vacation, I will be staying with Professor Snape. I want you to clean up this place as best you can." I told him.

"Yes sir, Master Potter sir!"

"I'll try to be back around the end of the week to check your progress. If all goes well, you will come with me to Gringotts at the end of the month. There are some things in my vaults that I wish to go over. My parents may have left me some of their things, and if that's the case, I'd like to bring them back with me here."

"Yes sir."

"Also", I continued, "I will be restoring my ancestral home, so some things will be relocated there as well."

"Yes sir. Is there anything else that Kreacher can do for his most gracious master?"

"One more thing: see if you could remove the portraits and tapestries in this house."

Kreacher's eyes widened. He loved that old portrait of Sirius' mum.

"I won't be destroying them. I'd actually like to restore them, but I can't do that with them here. There's a charm on the house, so I can't bring anyone else in, but I _can_ take them out. Hopefully." I said, Kreacher looking more and more relieved as I spoke.

"Yes sir, Master Potter." He said bowing.

"And Kreacher? Try to stay out of trouble will you?" I asked him in an off-hand kind of way.

"Of course Master Potter sir! Kreacher will not be causing any trouble at all." He said, looking rather scandalized. I just smiled and nodded.

"Good. You may go." He disappeared with a faint pop.

I guess he's not _so_ bad after all, I thought as I descended the stairs to the kitchen to await Snape's arrival. I wonder what his house is like. I wonder if he's married? Maybe he has kids… a son or daughter perhaps?

My mind wandered as I waited, and eventually ended up on that pretty girl I'd met when out shopping. I told her I'd call her, I mused. What was her address again? Number… fourteen? Number fourteen what? Ambrosia… Circle? Yes, that sounds about right. I decided to Floo her before I left.

I walked over and kneeled down in front of the fireplace. "Number Fourteen, Ambrosia Circle." I called out as I threw in the Floo powder. After a few seconds of trying to get someone's attention, a woman with wavy, shoulder-length hair walked past.

"Excuse me ma'am." I said in my most polite tone. She turned quickly, looking quite startled.

"Oh! Oh my! Why, I didn't see you there. How long have you been there?" she asked in a very sweet voice that slightly reminded me of a songbird.

"Not long." I replied, "Sorry if I startled you. My name is Harry Potter. Is this Number fourteen, Ambrosia Circle?"

"Yes," the woman answered.

"Oh good. Rein never told me she had a sister, but I suppose that we _have_ only met once. Is she in? Rein, I mean."

For a reason I couldn't understand, the woman looked extremely flattered. "Yes, just one moment. I'll get her for you." She said, walking off.

I conjured a large pillow, making myself somewhat more comfortable as I waited.

"Harry?" said a voice. "Are you still there?"

"Yes." I replied, sticking my head back into the flames. "Rein!"

"Hello Harry," she said, her melodic voice drifting out to greet me. "How are you?"

"I'm great. I've been busy, in case you're wondering why I haven't called you up before now." I answered, "How are you?"

"Oh I'm fine. I've been working at the shop, so I've had a bit to do myself. You said you've been busy. What have you been up to?" She said, settling into a large, squishy blue pillow.

"Oh nothing to much. I was staying at my aunt's before – they're Muggles, so they don't have Floo, but I'm at my godfather's old house now. I'm supposed to be moving later today."

"Oh? Why?"

" Well, ever since Sirius passed, the house had been empty. I came by here after I saw you that day. It's closer to Diagon Alley than my aunt's house is. Anyway, a… friend of the family stopped by, and I'll be going to stay with him for the summer later. I thought I'd Floo you before I moved."

"Oh ok." She shrugged, "What did you say to my mom? She was all smiles when she told me that you were calling for me."

"I didn't talk to your mom." I said confused. "I talked to a young woman with short, wavy dark brown hair, and blue-green eyes."

Rein laughed, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "There are only two of us here, Harry."

"You mean…?" my eyes widened with shock. "That was your _mom_?! I thought she was your _sister_!"

"No," Rein said, still laughing, "That's my mom. I've only got brothers!"

"No way…" I said, still amazed, "Blimey… she takes care of herself, doesn't she?"

"Mmm, she does." Came the reply. "You're not thinking about making a move on my mom, are you Harry?"

"What? No!" I said laughing. "But I can _definitely_ see where you get your good looks from."

Rein blushed a decidedly cute pink. "You are shameless aren't you?"

"Sometimes." I said, winking mischievously.

"Well, thank you anyway."

Rein and I talked for a bit longer, and then she had to leave to go do something with her mum. She really is a great girl, I thought to myself. She's such a riot. I could definitely see myself dating her. Just then, Mrs. Black's portrait started spurting her pureblood brouhaha.

"_FILTH OF THE EARTH! YOU ARE THE WOST KIND! TO BETRAY YOUR OWN KIND TO THROW YOUR LOT IN WITH THEM! HOW DARE YOU SCUM OF SCUM SET FOOT IN MY HOUSE! YOU TRAITOR! YOU…_"

It grew quiet very suddenly. So he must be here then. I stood as the door to the kitchen opened and a hassled-looking Professor Snape walked in.

"You should really do something about that wretched portrait, Potter." He said sourly.

"Why?" I asked sarcastically, "I know it's annoying, but really, no one else has a doorbell quite as unique as that, now do they?"

I was rewarded with a glare, albeit an amused one. "Yes, but she's not exactly polite, now is she?" he replied.

"I suppose not." I said in mock exasperation.

"If you're ready, we can leave now."

"Of course," I said, grabbing the handle of my trunk and Hedwig's cage and stepping into the fireplace with Snape, "We mustn't keep old Wormtail waiting."

Snape choose not to reply to my comment, and instead grabbed a handful of Floo powder.

"Spinner's End!" He called out before we were whisked away.


	9. Ch 8: Spinner's End

**Chapter 8: Spinner's End**

Spinner's End was nothing like I thought it would be. And that is _not_ a good thing.

"What _is_ this place?" I asked, utterly repulsed.

"Spinner's End." Snape said grimly.

"This _shack_ is where you _live_? Tell me it doesn't normally _look_ like this."

"If I remember correctly, you volunteered to live here." He replied, sneering.

"True…" I muttered, peering around the dimly lit interior of … "Is this… the _kitchen_?"

"Yes." Came the curt reply.

"How can you _eat_ in here?"

"Mr. Potter, if you would be so kind as to _not_ insult my home?"

"Sorry sir. It's just… I've always imagined you as a neat freak."

"I see." Was all Snape said before walking off through a door on my right. I followed him through the door, and up the stairs.

"So… this is it, huh?" I asked, looking around at the dismal interior.

"Rest assured Mr. Potter, we will not be staying long."

"We won't?" I parroted.

"No. I've only come to check up on Wormtail. Wait here."

"Oh. Ok."

I sat down on the couch in the living room, which was utterly uncomfortable. Eugh. What is that smell? I thought. It smells like a half-drowned animal in here. I shuffled my feel around on the floor a bit as I tried to get comfortable. I failed that task, and instead managed to spend the next few moments sneezing out the dust I'd accidentally kicked up. Eventually Snape came back down the stairs. Fortunately for me, Wormtail was with him.

"Hello Peter." I said, startling the half bald man.

"H-Harry P-Potter!" he stammered, sparing a quick glance at Snape, "What are you doing here?"

"Well I thought that was obvious. I'm here for my due." I said, surveying him coldly.

"Y-your d-due?" he squeaked.

"Yes." I answered, pulling out a wand. "You owe me your life. I've come to collect."

Pettigrew's eyes widened in fear, and his hands dived into his pockets for his wand. He never stood a chance, and my Full Body-bind caught him right in the face. I stood as his limbs snapped together and his body fell stiff to the floor.

"Looking for this?" I said, leveling his own wand at him and sneering in a way that rivaled Snape. "You can't honestly think that I'd let you escape me twice, did you?"

I turned Pettigrew into his Animagus form, and then stuffed him rather roughly into a cage I'd conjured for the event. Afterwards I called for Kreacher. When he arrived, I handed him the cage and a short note that I'd written Minister Scrimgeour.

"Take this _directly_ to the Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. Put both the letter _and_ the cage _in his hands_. No one else's, do you understand?" I told him, looking him directly in the eye.

"Yes Master. Right away sir!" he said, disappearing with a faint _pop_.

"Now that that's been taken care of, shall we go?" Snape said, speaking for the first time since he'd come downstairs. I nodded. The job was done; there really was no point in lingering. I followed him back down into the kitchen, and stepped alongside him into the fireplace.

"Thirty-nine, Warrior Way." He called out, throwing the Floo powder down into the fireplace.

After a few (blessedly short) moments of spinning, we arrived at our destination. I shook the ashes out of my clothing, and stepped out of the fireplace, and into what most be the most magnificent foyer I've ever seen.

"Wow." I breathed, nodding my approval.

The entryway had pale green walls and gleaming black marble floors that held up the gold filigree ceiling and enchanted skylight. The fireplace was made of the same black marble, with decorative gold columns on either side. To each side was a pair of double doors and a curved staircase. The large, French front doors were made of the darkest mahogany and inlaid with gold etchings, and several large, rose-stained windows on either side of the doors showed a breath-taking view of the front lawn. This was _definitely_ a step up from spinner's End.

"Welcome to Casa Snape." The professor said quietly.


	10. Ch 9: Visitors

**Chapter 9: Visitors**

Casa Snape, on first sight, was breathtaking. However, after the first couple of days it became a little monotonous. All Snape would let me do was homework, homework, and more homework. If he was feeling jovial he'd let me roam the grounds and house, so long as I didn't damage anything. But of course, his idea of 'damage' is far different from mine.

"That was a priceless family heirloom! I can't believe you _ruined_ it!"

So I'd stumbled into a marble column and _almost_ knocked a vase over. "It's not like I broke it." I replied shrugging. "It doesn't even has a scratch on it."

"That, _Potter_, is not the point! The point is you've done something that I _specifically_ told you not to do!"

"You told me not to destroy anything! You didn't say _don't bump _anything!"

"Well I'm saying it now! Do _not_ disturb _anything_ that is on display!" he growled, furiously.

"We all say things after the fact…" I mumbled.

Professor Snape bristled and looked as if he were about to say something particularly nasty when a beautiful blue-gray dove swooped down between us and landed on his forearm.

"Hello Abydos." Snape said, stroking the bird with a gentleness I'd have never thought he possessed. "I see you have something from Mina for me?"

"Mina? Who's that?" my curiosity piqued.

"_Wilhelmina_ is my estranged wife." He replied, rather wistfully.

"Oh? You were married?"

"Obviously. She _is_ my _estranged_ wife." He said taking the letter from Abydos.

"Well I never knew you were married. Did you ever have any kids?"

"Two." He said, taking the parchment out of its envelope and scanning it quickly. "That's why she's writing me. My daughter normally visits me in the summer."

"So… when is she coming?" I asked politely.

"Today. She should be here in a few hours. Excuse me." he said, stepping past me.

A few hours later, just as Professor Snape and I were leaving the dining room, the fireplace flared to life and admitted two people in quick succession. One was a beautiful, vaguely familiar woman with wavy brown hair that she wore pulled back from her face. She was tall (for a woman at least) and slender, with a regal bearing and kind, blue-green eyes that slanted slightly upwards at the outer corners. She was dressed rather oddly for a witch, wearing a knee-length, pale gold toga that accentuated her toffee skin instead of robes, and coordinating shoes. She looked rather young – perhaps in her mid-twenties – and I was just about to ask if this was the daughter he spoke of when he took her by both hands and kissed her in a _very_ non-paternal way.

"Mina!" he said, once they were no longer attached at the lips. "It's excellent to see you again! You look radiant, as always."

She treated him with a smile and responded, "It's wonderful to see you too, Severus. And I see that you are still taken to wearing black in the summertime."

They laughed at this, and I was rather taken aback, until the second person elbowed her way between them.

"Daddy!" the girl said, burying herself in Snape's arms so that only her waist-length, wavy black hair was visible. She favored her mother in complexion, height, and build, and had blue eyes so dark that they were almost black, much like Snape. When she released him, I could see that she was _very_ well-developed, and would no doubt be surpass her mother in beauty. She was wearing a short, sleeveless black dress (that did an excellent job of showing off her shapely legs) and matching shoes.

"Hi Rein." I said, drawing attention to myself.

"Harry!" she said surprised.

"You know each other?" Snape asked. Rein nodded. "How?"

"He came into the store one day. We had a lot of fun picking out new things for him."

"I see."

"Harry, this is my mother, Wilhelmina Nightshade. Mom this is Harry." She said gesturing between us.

"Hello Harry, we talked briefly, I remember." Her mom said, shaking my outstretched hand.

"Yes. I thought you were her sister." I said, blushing faintly at the memory.

"Oh yes! That made my day. Do I really look that young?"

"Yes ma'am. I didn't recognize you when you arrived, and if Rein hadn't shown up when she did, I'd have thought _you_ were Professor Snape's daughter."

"Oh my!" she said, placing her hand on her breast in a gesture of surprise, "Well, we should all hope that no one kisses their _daughter_ like that!"

"I suppose not." I said, laughing. "Ms. Nightshade, Professor Snape said that the two of you were separated?"

"We are dear. And you can call me Mina. But… what can I say? Old habits die hard."

"Quite." Snape said, taking Mina's hand. "So how is Dorian?"

"He's rebellious as ever. I wonder where he gets it from."

"Who's Dorian?" I whispered to Rein.

"My brother." She replied. "He's nineteen. Him and his fiancée – her name is Rebecca – own Repertoire."

"Oh ok. I didn't think that your parents were that old."

"They married young. Want to go to the gardens?"

"Ok. Are you sure they won't mind?" I asked, gesturing towards her parents.

"They're too wrapped up in each other to notice or care." She said, rolling her eyes.


	11. Ch 10: Rein

**Chapter 10: Rein**

"The gardens are beautiful this time of year," Rein said, stooping to capture a butterfly, "don't you think?"

"They are." I refrained from adding 'but not as beautiful as you', knowing that would sound really cheesy.

She stood and took me by the hand and led me around for a bit, pointing out the various types of blossoms and trees along the way. I knew most of them already, having done all the gardening at Number 4, but I let her explain the just the same. I like the way her voice rolls over me like a river comprised of the sweetest melody.

We crossed a bridge that led to a gazebo in the middle of a pond filled with water lilies, and sat down on the couch inside.

"The gardens are heated in the winter." She said, turning towards me. "Hungry?"

"A little." I replied, "But I don't really want to go in. It's so nice out."

"We can picnic here, if you'd like."

"Okay."

She called for a house-elf, and asked very politely for a picnic lunch for two. I just smiled and gazed at her.

"What?" She asked when she noticed me staring.

"Nothing." She gave me an inquiring look. "It's just that my friend Hermione is really into protecting house-elves' well-being. The way you addressed Nana reminded me of her."

Something in Rein's face changed as she looked away, and I realized what she must have been thinking.

"It's not like that." I said taking her hand, and looking into her beautiful eyes, "Not with her. Perhaps it could be like that with you, but not like that with Hermione. She's like a sister to me. Never like that with her." I faked a shudder and got a smile for my efforts. "That would be gross."

Nana appeared with our lunch, and we ate in a comfortable silence for a while. Eventually it was me who broke the silence.

"What's it like?"

"What's what like?" Rein asked, wiping a spot of icing off my face with a napkin.

"Having Professor Snape for a dad."

"I don't know. I've never had him as a teacher."

"You know what I mean." I said, nudging her playfully.

"Well… I don't see much of him usually."

"Oh?"

"Mmm. He's working, I'm in school…"

"I see. You live with your mom most of the time you're not in school?"

"Yup, over the Christmas holidays and for Easter. Sometimes I go home for Halloween, but lately it hasn't been safe enough in October to travel."

"Because of Voldemort."

"Because of Voldemort."

We sat in a contemplative silence for a few minutes, until I worked up the courage to ask what I'd been thinking for a while.

"He's a Death Eater."

Rein looked at me, an unidentifiable emotion in her eyes. "He's a spy."

"I know. How does… how come…"

"How come mom and I aren't being forced to join Voldemort?" she finished for me.

"Yeah."

"Because he doesn't know we exist."

It was my turn to be surprised. "Occulmency?"

"No. Well, after a fashion." Seeing my confused look, she elaborated. "He removes his memories of us. Before he goes to… the meetings, he puts all of his memories of me and mom in a pensive so old Moldy Shorts can't see them. He doesn't even know we exist."

"And what about Snape?"

"Dad? He keeps his memories of us locked away where no one can find them. Sometimes he goes months without those memories. Sometimes he doesn't even know he _has_ a family."

"What about Dorian?"

"Voldemort thinks he's dead. Dad told him that he was stillborn and mom died giving birth. He has false memories to back his story up."

"Wow. So that's why you don't go to Hogwarts?"

"Yeah. I wanted to, when I was little. But I understand now why I can't. Why it's better that I don't. I don't think I could be in the same room with dad and have him look at me like he doesn't know me."

"So him and your mom are still for each other?"

"What? Yeah. They're all mushy and stuff when they see each other." She made a face. "It's kinda gross. I'm glad you're here."

"Me too."

Things had been quiet between us for a while, when Rein leaned over and put her head on my shoulder and asked me to tell her about my life.

"The part the books don't tell us." She added, snuggling into my arm.

"Well… I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle after Voldemort murdered my parents. They're Muggles, Petunia and Vernon. So is their son, Dudley. He's about the size of a baby hippo. But don't tell the hippo I said that, it might get offended."

Rein giggled. "Go on."

"My aunt is my mom's sister. She hated my mom and my dad. They're "freaks" to her. So am I. They all hate and fear magic. I don't know why."

"By 'they' you mean your aunt and uncle?"

"And Dudley, yes. My aunt and uncle raised me like a house elf. I was given a cupboard to sleep in, and my cousin's worn out hand-me-downs to wear. That's why I needed to replace all of my clothes. Because they were too big and worn."

"I remember."

"My uncle was abusive. He and my cousin took turns beating me. My aunt made a habit out of starving me."

"That's terrible." Rein said, wrapping her arms around me.

"And that's not even half of it."


	12. Ch 11: A Different Kind of Family

**Chapter 11: A Different Kind of Family**

We talked about my past for what seemed like a long time. Sometimes we laughed. Mostly we didn't. Rein was very interested in what happened at Hogwarts, and I found myself telling her things that I hadn't even told Ron or Hermione. Like how I really felt about being a Parselmouth.

"I hate it really. I always get funny looks from people whenever I use it. They think I'm evil."

"Really?" Rein asked, "I think it's cool that you can speak Parseltongue."

"You do?"

"Yup. Do you think you could teach me?"

"I don't know. I guess I could try. What's in it for me?" I asked mischievously.

"I dunno… what do you want?"

"Potions tutoring."

"Okay. So…. When do we start?"

I looked up at the sky. The sun was about to set. _Has it really been that long?_

"How about after dinner?" Rein finally suggested.

"Okay. Sounds good."

Just then, Nana appeared. "Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes. Master Snape wishes you both to attend," She said bowing.

"Alright. We'll be there," Rein said. Nana disappeared with a faint _pop_.

"Want to watch the sun set?" she asked quietly. I didn't respond; I just wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. She rested her head on my chest, and for a moment I couldn't help but think that all was right with the world.

We went in for dinner to find a very… strange Professor Snape. He was humming happily to himself, and there wasn't nary a Potions utensil in sight.

"So," I said, sitting down after pulling out Rein's chair, "What's got you in such a good mood?"

Snape stopped humming at gave me the same look Fred Weasley had given me after the Yule ball when I'd asked where he and Angelina had gone off to. I gawked at him, forgetting my manners, as the implications of _that_ look settled in. I also realized the he was wearing navy robes, instead of the black ones from earlier.

"You mean…?"

Snape nodded, smiled, and went back to humming.

"Oh! Daddy! Ick!" Rein said, her face contorting between horror and disgust, "That's just gross!"

He laughed. "Your brother does it. Why should I let you teenagers have all the fun?"

Rein stared at him horrified. "I don't want to know when Dorian does it! Or when anyone else does it either! It's not my business, and I don't want to know!"

"You want to be left ignorant then, is that it?"

"Yes! I don't want to know that you and mom… that you… _you know_!" she finished in exasperation. _This would be funny, _I thought, _if it weren't so weird_.

Just then, Mina walked in and gracefully took her seat next to Professor Snape. "So," she said, unfolding her napkin and placing it gently in her lap, "did you two have fun in the gardens?"

After the initial conversation regarding Snape ("Please Harry, if you're going to date my daughter, you might as well call me Severus.") and Mina's sex life, the rest of dinner was rather dull. We'd eaten in a comfortable sort of silence, punctuated every now and then by a question or the faint _pop_ of a house elf. It wasn't until we were halfway through desert that I remembered I was supposed to check up on Kreacher's progress at Grimmauld Place.

"Sir?" I inquired politely, swallowing a bit of chocolate pie.

"Yes." Snape replied, glancing away from his plate in time to miss the spoon in Mina's hand, therefore ending up with a cheek full of chocolate mousse and whipped topping.

"I was wondering if it would be possible for me to go to Sirius'."

"It depends on when you were planning on going," he answered as Mina wiped his desert off his face.

"Sometime later this week. You missed a spot," I said, indicating the same spot on my own cheek, "There."

Mina licked her napkin and dabbed at Snape's face. "I suppose you could go tomorrow. I have some errands to run, and the women wish to go shopping," he replied, completely unfazed.

"Thanks. I need to go to Gringotts as well, if that's alright?"

"Of course. Go there first, and then meet us at Twillfit and Tatting's after you've checked on the house," he replied, "You could use a new set of robes."

"Severus!" Mina admonished.

"Well he could." Mina glared at him. "What?"

"Thank you, sir," I said turning to Mina, "No really, I _do_ need new robes. The ones I've got are far too short."

Mina inclined her head in agreement, but shot a dirty look at Snape all the same.

"I'm going to bed," Rein stated as she moved around the table to kiss both her parents, "Night."

"Goodnight, Rein."

"Night."

It was shortly after Rein left that I turned in as well. I ducked into my room, grabbed my pajamas, and headed to the bathroom. I had just placed my hand on the door when it opened and Rein stepped out, dressed in a pair of blue satin pants and a white cotton shirt.

"Oh! Harry, hi," she said, pushing her hair back from her face, "I didn't see you there."

"Sorry. Are you finished? If not I can wait."

"Oh, no, I'm done."

"Well…" I said, indicating the bathroom.

"Oh!" She moved to the side to let me pass. "Sorry."

"It's alright."

"Well, goodnight."

"Night."

I stood in the hallway and watched her disappear into a room down the adjacent hall. _She really is something._


	13. Ch 12:Grimmauld Place 2

**Chapter 12: Grimmauld Place**

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place!" I shouted, and a moment later I found myself in Sirius' old kitchen. I shook the ashes off of my robes, and looked around. _The place looks good_, I thought to myself. The normally grimy room was not only clean, but it was painted as well. The walls had been done in pale, gold-colored wallpaper, and there was a golden chandelier hanging from the ceiling. The sconces on the walls matched the chandelier, and as I stepped out of the fireplace, I heard the click of my footsteps echoing off the new black marble tile. But as good as the room looked, it felt like something was missing.

"Kreacher?" I called, turning in the large, almost bare room.

"Yes Master?" he replied, appearing at my elbow and bowing.

"Where's the table?" I asked, "And the chairs? And the… _stuff_?"

"Kreacher took all of the old furniture in the house and put it in the basement, he did," he answered proudly.

"Why?"

"Master does not like? Master said he was bringing furniture from Gringotts, so Kreacher moved all the furniture to the basement to make room," he said, his ears drooping, "Kreacher is a stupid, stupid house-elf, he is!"

"No! No," I said, stopping Kreacher before he could think to punish himself, "I was just wondering where it all went, that's all. You did a good thing, making room for the other things like that."

Kreacher perked up, and started bouncing on his toes. "Would Master like to see the rest of the house? Kreacher cleaned the whole thing, he did he did!"

"Umm… sure," I said, following him into the hallway. The entryway was tiled in the same fashion as the kitchen, and the walls were papered in silver. The severed troll's foot was gone, as was the painting of Sirius' mum. The banister was polished, and the stairs were covered in plush, black carpet. I was just about to start up the stairs when Kreacher grabbed my arm.

"Master must see the sitting room! And the study! And the potions lab!" he said, dragging me across the hall to a previously unnoticed room. He opened the door with a flourish.

"The sitting room," he said, gesturing me inside.

The sitting room was carpeted in crimson, and the walls were painted a sparkling white. There was a large fireplace to the right, done entirely in white marble, and a large picture window dressed in red to the left. The only furniture in the room was an antique white grand piano and its coordinating bench. I walked over to inspect the piano. _Aunt Petunia would kill to have one of these,_ I thought, sitting on the red cushioned bench. The piano had obviously been custom made, because wherever the keys were supposed to be black, they were red instead.

"This was mistress's favorite room," Kreacher said quietly.

"Well," I said turning towards him, "we should put her portrait in here then."

Kreacher led me around the first floor, chatting happily the whole time. The study had rich, mahogany paneled walls, and blue and black-checkered tile. There was a fireplace here too, and another in the potions lab, which apparently had been Narcissa's favorite room in the house. It had a hard limestone floor, and white walls. There were a dozen or so counters for preparing ingredients, stone pits with grates for brewing over fire, and an entire wall of shelves for storing things. Opposite the door was a series of large windows. When asked what the windows were for, Kreacher replied, "To provide proper ventilation, of course!" I couldn't help but wonder if Snape had ever considered the idea, or if he simply preferred to smother his pupils in toxic fumes.

The second and third floor hallways were carpeted like the stairs, and the walls were papered the same way as the hall on the first floor. The library was carpeted in deep gold, and the walls were pale blue. The drapes covering the window matched the carpet. The second floor sitting room had an oak floor and white walls, "Because they would not let Kreacher carpet it or paint it any other color", and the table and chairs were still present. All of the bedrooms and bathrooms had bare floors, white walls, and were completely void of any furniture.

"You didn't finish these?" I asked, standing in the middle of the room where I'd stayed last summer.

"Kreacher thought that master would like to decorate the bed and baths," came the quiet reply.

I nodded thoughtfully. "Good idea Kreacher. The house looks great. Ready to go to Gringotts?"

"Yes sir, Harry Potter sir!" he replied, straightening his loincloth. As we walked back to the kitchen, Kreacher chattered on about what he'd been doing for the past week.

_I should get him something else to wear_, I mused, stepping into the fireplace, _He deserves it, after all._


	14. Ch 13: M L Ferlore, Esq

**Chapter 13: M. L. Ferlore, Esq.**

The floo to Gringotts was quick and painless, and I stepped out of the fireplace completely soot-free. Kreacher appeared beside me with _pop_.

"This, Kreacher," I said, gesturing to our surroundings, "is Gringotts."

Kreacher's eyes grew very round as he surveyed the wood-paneled walls and gleaming tiled floors. It was busy today – not unusual for a bank on Friday – and there were all sorts of people milling about. I led Kreacher to an open counter.

"My name is Harry Potter," I said to the attending goblin, "I'm here to go through the family vaults."

"Ah yes… let's see… Potter…" The goblin flipped through a large book and, after scanning the page, nodded. "Yes, here it is. Mr. Harry Potter. You are the Heir to the Noble and Most Ancient Houses of Black and Potter, is that correct?"

"Yes."

"Ferlore will be with you in just one moment. Can I help you with anything else while you wait?"

"Yes," I replied, handing him my key, "I would like to make a withdrawal. Twenty galleons, please."

"Right away." The goblin took my key, placed it into a glass container, and set the container down a chute. A moment later, the capsule returned with both my key and a small pouch inside it. "Here you are, Mr. Potter. Thank you for banking with Gringotts."

I took the money pouch and was just wondering where I should wait when a goblin appeared at my side.

"Harry Potter?" the goblin said in an unusually high voice for its species.

"Yes."

"Ferlore," the goblin said, shaking my hand, "From the Gringotts Department of Inheritance. I will be your advisor for all matters relating to your inheritance."

"Nice to meet your acquaintance, Mr. Ferlore."

"_Miss_ Ferlore, if you wish to give me any title," she replied. It was at that moment that I realized that the goblin before me was wearing skirt suit and heels.

"Sorry."

"It's quite alright. I get a lot of that from your kind. I try not to be offended – I know most humans have never encountered a female goblin before." She smiled at me, and I couldn't help but think that she reminded me of a very short, good-looking Pansy Parkinson. She had black hair that was pulled into a bun atop her head, and small, half-moon spectacles like Professor Dumbledore perched upon a small, button nose. She was actually quite pretty, for a goblin.

"If you and…" she stopped gestured towards Kreacher.

"Kreacher."

"Kreacher," she turned and shook hands with Kreacher, who looked beside himself with bliss, "Would follow me, we have quite a bit of paperwork to go over."

Ferlore led us down a well-lit corridor of office suites, stopping at one marked 'M. L. Ferlore, Esquire'.

"After you," she said, gesturing us inside.

Once Kreacher and I were both seated, Ferlore took her seat behind her desk.

"May I offer either of you anything to drink?" she asked politely.

"None for me thanks. But Kreacher may have whatever he wishes."

"Kreacher would like a glass of water, if it is not too much trouble," he said, straightening his loincloth as best he could. After Kreacher had been served, Ferlore took out a large file.

"Mr. Potter, before we begin, do you have any questions for me?"

"Umm…" I thought carefully, "I do have one question, but it's not really relevant to my inheritance."

"I will do my best to answer you," she responded, crossing her fingers on the desk.

"I noticed that your door says 'M. L. Ferlore, Esquire'…"

"Ah, yes," she said, sitting back in her chair and smiling in amusement, "That. We goblins also have first and second names, although we tend to go by our surnames for formality."

"Oh. And 'esquire'?"

"I have a degree in inheritance law. Humans and veelas are not the only ones that value education. 'Esquire' is the title given to someone with a degree in law."

"Oh, ok," I said nodding, "That makes sense. I guess you would have to have some sort of formal schooling to work at a bank."

"Precisely. Any more questions?"

"Not at the moment, no."

"Well then it is time to move on to more formal matters." She opened the file on her desk and looked at a sheet of parchment. "You first contacted us regarding your current state of minority, correct?"

"Yes."

"You wanted to know why you are not allowed to do magic outside of school?"

"Yes."

"Hmm…" She shuffled through some papers for a moment. "Here we are," she said, scanning a page, "I see. Are you aware that your present legal guardians, Mr. Vernon H. and Mrs. Petunia E. Dursley have not, as of today, formally adopted you?"

"Yes."

"Are you also aware that the aforementioned guardians are now and have been, for the past fourteen years and eight months, in blatant violation of the Protection of Underage Magical Offspring Act?"

I stared at her open-mouthed. "Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia are in violation of_ what_?"

"The Protection of Underage Magical Offspring Act. It states that no child that possesses magical abilities or is of magical heritage, by birth or otherwise, shall be subjected to reside in a sub-species habitat. A 'sub-species habitat' is one that fails to meet the minimum legal requirement for treatment of a living species, as dictated by the legal system of the species with which the legal guardian identifies."

"What?" I asked confused, "Wait so that means… what does that mean?"

"It _means_, in your case, that Mr. and Mrs. Dursley are guilty of child abuse. _You_ are the child they abused. According to human law, the way that the Dursleys have been treating you is inhumane, and therefore, by magical standards, sub-species."

"Oh." I sat back in my chair, quietly thinking about what I'd just been told. "So… what does that mean for me?"

"It means that you have two choices: you can either press charges against the Dursleys and be placed with another family, or you can petition for independence."

"If I press charges against the Dursleys, do I get to pick the family I'm placed with?"

"No. The Ministry will choose for you from those who show interest and exhibit both financial and mental stability."

"What if I don't like them?" I said, imagining what it would be like to be placed with a family like the Malfoys instead of Ron or Hermione's family.

"Then you grin and bear it."

"Ok… and if I petition for independence?"

"If you are granted independence, then you be formally declared a legal adult, and will have all of the privileges and responsibilities that come with being such."

"And I'll never have to go back to the Dursley's?"

"Correct."

"I think that I want to do that then."

"Very good," she said handing me a stack of papers, "I need for you to read these, and sign here, here, and here…"


	15. Ch 14: Precious Heirlooms

**Chapter 14: Precious Heirlooms**

After a grueling two hours of paperwork in Ferlore's office, Kreacher and I were finally escorted down to the carts. As we whizzed through the corridors, I asked Kreacher what he would think about a new set of clothing.

"Master is displeased with Kreacher?" he exclaimed, his eyes filling with large tears.

"No," I said rather calmly, "I simply want to know if you would be amenable to a new set of clothing. You've done well, and I wanted to reward you."

Kreacher's eyes grew impossibly round. "Why yes! Master, thank you! Kreacher would like that very much, Master Potter sir!" he replied, bouncing with excitement.

"Sit down Kreacher, before you fall."

"Yes sir."

The cart slowed to a stop just inside a large cavern. There were large, glowing orbs floating along the ceiling, and several heavy, vaulted doors in varying colors on either side of the tracks. As we climbed out of the cart, I noticed that the doors were also numbered. The closest door was painted gold and marked 'One', while the door on the opposite side of the tracks was maroon and marked 'Sixteen'.

"Sixteen?" I asked the attending goblin.

"Yes. There are sixteen Potter family vaults, and they are color-coded by content. For example, the first gold vault contains portraits of members of the Potter family. The second contains artwork produced by the Potter family, and the third contains artwork _collected_ by the Potter family."

"Ok…" I nodded, "So what do the other colors mean?"

"A green door signifies a vault that contains furniture. A silver vault has clothing, while blue ones contain house wares."

"House wares?"

"House wares are things like linens and such that are used around the home, Master Potter," Kreacher said helpfully.

"Ok, and purple? I noticed that there are only one of those."

"Violet vaults," the goblin continued, "contain jewelry and other clothing accessories – such as hats, cloaks, scarves, and belts."

"Are shoes kept there as well?"

"No, shoes would be kept with in a silver vault."

"Oh."

"The white vault contains books, journals and diaries – it's very much like a private library. The black vault contains things that are related to house-elves."

"Like house-elf sized beds and clothes?" Kreacher asked hopefully.

"Exactly. The Maroon vault contains miscellaneous items that are not grouped with the other items. For instance, you might find a few cauldrons, trunks, bird cages, brooms, or other things when going through vault sixteen."

"Ok," I said, "thanks. I'll let you know if I need anything. Come on Kreacher, it looks like we've got a lot of work to do."

After the guide goblin had gone, Kreacher and I moved into the first vault.

"Hello?" I called out, "Is anyone here? Mum? Dad? It's Harry."

"Harry!" came a voice from my right, "Over here son! To your right!"

"My god James, he looks just _like_ you!"

"Of course he does – he's a Potter."

"Hello mum, dad," I said, stepping in front of life-sized portrait of my parents.

"My baby," mum said, clasping her hands in excitement, "We thought we'd never see you again!"

"I thought so too."

"Well," dad said, "stand up straight, let's have a look at you. My, my! You _do_ look just like me!"

"I told you so."

"But you have your mother's eyes."

"Does he? Move over James," mum said, nudging my father aside, "Oh he _does_! I'd forgotten about that, it's been so long… You know sometimes they change, as you get older."

"Nope," I replied, "been like this my whole life."

"Who's that you've got with you son?" dad said, peering over at Kreacher.

"This is Kreacher."

"Hello senior Potter sir," Kreacher said bowing, "Ma'am."

"Kreacher?" dad said, stroking his chin thoughtfully, "Lily, help me out. Where have we heard that name before?"

"It was the name of Sirius' house-elf, I believe. At the Black family home."

"Yes! That's it!" he said, snapping his fingers, "How is old Paddy anyway? Is he treating you well?"

I looked away from my parents, choosing to stare at the floor instead.

"Harry?" mum asked, concerned, "What's wrong? Sirius _is_ treating you properly, isn't he?"

"Sirius…" I said quietly, tears in my eyes, "Sirius is dead."

"What?" dad asked, mum gripping his arm in shock, "How?"

"I… I killed him. It was an accident I swear! I thought he was in danger, so I rushed off to save him… It was a trap, and he ended up coming to save me instead. He was battling Bellatrix Lestrange in the Department of Mysteries and she caught him with a spell and knocked him through the veil and…"

"Harry… son…"

"I'm so sorry!" I said, sliding down onto the hard floor and leaning against their portrait, "I'm so sorry… I didn't mean to… I should have listened to Hermione. I should have learned Occlumency from Snape. I should have told somebody; I should have waited for help… But I was so _stupid_. I ignored everyone's advice and went charging off… Please don't hate me…"

"Harry, Harry," mum said, kneeling in her frame, "we don't hate you. Do we James?"

"No, of course not. You couldn't have know what would happen," he said, joining mum at the bottom of the frame, "Here, why don't you tell us everything that's happened. Start at the beginning. What happened after Voldemort attacked?"

I nodded. "Okay," I said wiping my eyes with the back of my hand, "After you guys died, Voldemort tried to kill me. He used the Killing Curse, but it rebounded, tearing his soul from his body and leaving me with this scar." I lifted up my fringe to show them.

"What scar, dear?" mum asked.

"The one that's…" I felt around on my forehead for my scar, and then it hit me. "There was one here. I had it removed. Muggle cosmetic surgery."

"Oh," mum said, her brow furrowing, "Does it hurt much?"

"No, only when Voldemort's excited."

"How do you know…?"

"Shh, Lily. He'll tell us in a minute. Go on Harry."

"Well, I don't remember much from that night," I continued, "but from what I was _told_ Sirius ran off to get revenge on Peter. He cornered Peter, but the rat was clever. He cut off his finger and blew up the street, killing a dozen Muggles. Then he transformed into his rat form and fled into the sewers. When the Aurors got there all they saw was a blown up street and dead bodies, Sirius in the middle of all of it. They arrested him and sent him to Azkaband."

"And what happened to you?" mum asked quietly, "If Sirius was sent to prison, then where did you go?"

"Dumbledore sent me to live with your sister, Petunia, and her husband."

"Oh no!" she exclaimed, turning to dad, "James, he… Albus wouldn't, would he?"

"Apparently he would. And did."

"Yeah…" I said bitterly, "And so began my loveless and abusive childhood…"


	16. Ch 15: Potter Vaults

**Chapter 15: Potter Vaults**

Reliving my past with my parents was draining, at best. Eventually we got off the subject of my past actions and started talking about what was going on now.

"So," said dad after retrieving a glass of water from my great-uncle Osiris' painting, "Tell me more about this girlfriend of yours. You say you met her this summer?"

"Yes," I replied, wishing I'd never even mentioned the subject.

"Well," said my mother encouragingly, "go on."

"Her name is Rein, and"

"Surname?" dad asked.

"Nightshade."

"Wilhelmina's daughter?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"We worked with her, your mother and I. During the war," dad replied, "She was our contact. She has a son too, if I'm not mistaken. Dorian, I think his name is."

"Yeah, Rein said she had a brother. What do you mean when you say that Ms. Nightshade was your contact?"

"In the Ministry. She was an Unspeakable."

"Ms. Nightshade worked for the Department of Mysteries? Cool!"

"Yes," said mum, "but we didn't see much of her after the first year or so. As I come to understand it, she was relocated to Egypt."

"Why?"

"We never found out."

"Oh."

There was a moment of awkward silence, broken when my father made an indignant noise as Osiris barged his way into my parent's frame.

"So, skipper," Uncle Osiris said, snitching his goblet back from my dad, "tell us about your bonnie lass. That's what Maureen and I want to hear about, isn't that right dear?"

His wife, still in their portrait, stopped brushing her long rouge hair long enough to nod in agreement.

"The next generation of Potters, that's what _we_ want to hear about," she said, flipping her hair over her left shoulder and braiding it.

I blushed scarlet. "We're not that… far along yet."

"Well how far along are you then?" Aunt Maureen asked, "I need you to hurry up and get married so we can get out of this blasted vault! I miss sunlight."

"Maureen dear," Aunt Chloe said, "Whatever do you mean? You have a window right there in your portrait."

"Yes, _sister dear_, I see _that_. I was talking about _real_ sunlight, not this artificial painted mess."

"Oh," she said, returning to feeding her albino puffskein, "well, we miss that too."

"Kreacher and I must be going now," I said standing, "But I'll try to come visit you again before school starts. I'll ask Dumbledore if I can bring one of the family portraits to Hogwarts with me this school year."

"Oh, alright," Osiris said, huffing, "But next time you'll tell us about your bonnie lass, savvy?"

"Yes, Uncle Osiris," I said, rolling my eyes.

"That's _Captain_ Osiris to you, boy."

I laughed and shook my head. "Sure thing, Captain," I said, pulling my cloak about me, "Come on Kreacher, let's see if there's anything a little more presentable for you."

"Yes Master."

Kreacher followed me down the cavern and into the black vault.

"You need seven outfits," I said, opening a wardrobe and peering inside.

"Seven, sir?"

"Yes," I replied, "One for each day. You should wear clean clothing every day."

"Yes sir!"

"You'll also need socks and shoes. And make sure that you pick at least one outfit that you can do outside chores in."

"Yes Master Potter."

In the black vault Kreacher picked out five black suits and five white dress shirts. We also agreed on a pair of overalls, several undershirts, socks, workboots, a pair of pajamas, and a pair of dress shoes. We packed them all in a house-elf sized trunk and sent them along to Grimmauld Place via Gringotts' Eagle-Owl Express.

"Where to now, master?" Kreacher asked as a goblin took the trunk away to be shipped.

"Well, I need new robes. I'll look around the silver vault and see what I find first. No need to waste my money if I've got a perfectly good wardrobe here. After that I'll go meet Professor Snape and Ms. Nightshade and Rein at Twillfit and Tatting's, and you'll go back to Grimmauld Place."

The silver vault held more clothes than I could have ever imagined. It seemed to go on forever, and the racks and shelves of shoes and clothing right along with it. It seemed I owned enough clothing to start my own vintage shop. "And here I was, wearing hand-me-downs," I murmured, stepping into the cavernous room. There were shelves carved into the walls on either side, and while the left side held shoes, the other held an array of folded clothing. There were long, free-standing racks running down the middle of the room, occasionally punctuated by a couch or two and circular screen presumably for changing clothes. I was floored by the vastness of this new-found wardrobe, and decided to take my time looking around and trying things on.

"I'll bet _Malfoy_ doesn't even have one of these," I said, swinging an opalescent dragonhide cloak about my shoulders. It was lined a warm, silvery animal hide that was soft to the touch. When I turned to a mirror to see myself, all I saw was my head.

"Kreacher," I asked, turning to the side, "what is this made of exactly?"

"Kreacher is not sure, sir," he replied thoughtfully, "Perhaps sir should ask Professor Snape."

"I'll do that."

In the end, I took the dragonhide invisibility cloak for myself, a set of black dress robes for Remus, and a long black traveling cloak for Ron. I resolved to ask Snape about the cloak's material as soon as I saw him. I sent Kreacher back to Grimmauld Place with the things I'd picked out for Remus and Ron, and took the cart back to the main lobby. I spent perhaps more time than I should've mulling around the silver vault, and it was nearly four o'clock when I finally took the carts back to the main lobby.

"Thank you for banking with Gringotts," said the goblin as I climbed out of the cart.

I crossed the lobby to a vacant fireplace, and, after throwing in a handful of Floo powder and shouting "Hogsmead", I was on my way.


	17. Ch 16: Hogsmead

**Chapter 16: Hogsmead**

I arrived at the Three Broomsticks and hurried along to Twillfit and Tatting's. I was already quite late, and I knew that the Professor would _not_ take kindly to my tardiness. I burst into the clothing shop slightly out of breath, and was greeted very warmly by Rein.

"Harry!" she exclaimed, throwing her arms around me, "What took you so long? Mum and I've been here for nearly and _hour_!"

"Sorry, I ran into a portrait of my family in the vaults and they wanted to know what had happened since they died."

"Oh! Well, that's wonderful!" Rein said uncertainly, "Isn't it?"

"Oh yeah", I answered smiling, "it was great! Did you know that my great-uncle Osiris was a sailor?"

"Of course I didn't Harry!" Rein exclaimed, "Tell me about him?"

I launched into a brief recount of what I'd found out about my family while Rein led me through the store, picking out things to try on. Occasionally she'd hold something up and ask, "How about this?" or "Maybe this, in a different color?" to which I'd respond accordingly. It wasn't until I'd gotten to the end of my story that I realized she'd started picking things out for _me_.

"Er, Rein?" I said, plucking a bright yellow traveling cloak out of her hands, "I appreciate you trying to help, but I really only need some plain black ones for school."

"Oh," she replied, "Well… how about this then?"

I responded by taking the black silk robes and putting them back on the shelf. "That's just not practical. I need something for everyday. Kinda like what your dad wears, only…"

"Not so teacher-ish?"

"Exactly."

We spent the next few minutes debating the difference between natural and synthetic fabrics, and had just moved on to the "charmed, or not charmed?" debate when Ms. Nightshade and Professor Snape showed up.

"There you two are!" Mina said, hugging us both, "I'd wondered where you'd run off to!"

"Mum," Rein said, crossing her arms, "tell Harry that robes that are charmed to repel stains and water are better than robes that are only charmed to be flame retardant."

"This is true love," Mina agreed, patting my arm, "Unless you're an Auror, you don't really need your robes to be flame resistant."

"That is," Snape added, "unless you happen to have the misfortune of sharing Potions with Mr. Longbottom…"

"Leave Neville out of this," I said, choosing the flame retardant robes nonetheless.

After several grueling minutes of trying things on and being told either "That's not very flattering, Harry" by Rein or Mina or "I believe those will suffice" by Snape, I took my purchases to the counter and paid for them. We were just on our way to the Three Broomsticks for an early supper when my forehead started tingling and Snape suddenly grasped his forearm.

"Get to Hogwarts, _now_!" he barked before he turned on his heel and Disapparated.

"Harry, Harry come _on_!" Rein yelled, pulling me across the street to the Three Broomsticks. "Mum!"

"Here I am!" came the reply from behind us. We turned and were embraced by Mina, who looked quite calm, given the circumstances.

"Mum, there's something wrong with Harry!"

"There's _nothing_ wrong with me! This always happens when Voldemort's up to no good." I said.

"Are you sure?" Mina asked, obviously concerned.

"Yes, I'm fine."

"Good," she replied, steering me and rein into the nearest fireplace and grabbing a handful of Floo powder, "The Great Hall, Hogwarts!"

xxx

Rein and I arrived in the Great Hall an anxious, soot covered, disoriented jumble of arms and legs. Flooing hadn't helped my evil-induced headache any, and instead of staying on my feet once we reached our destination, I'd gone tumbling head first out of the fireplace. Of course, since Rein had been holding on to my arm, she'd fallen right on top of me. It was embarrassing enough that I'd fallen in the first place, but it was infinitely _more_ embarrassing when a pair of shiny red boots stopped inches in front of my face.

"Harry, my boy!" Dumbledore said, offering a withered hand to Rein, "What brings you here?"

"Well…" I said, picking myself up off the floor and dusting off my robes, "we were out shopping, Rein and I--"

"And I take it this lovely young woman is the one you speak of?"

"Yes sir. Headmaster, Rein Nightshade. Rein, Professor Dumbledore."

"Hi."

"How do you do? You were saying, Harry?"

"We were shopping in Hogsmead when my scar, or rather, the skin where my scar _was_ started burning and--"

"Albus!" Mina said stepping out of the fireplace, "you won't believe what happened! There are Death Eaters in Hogsmead!"

"Are you sure, Mina?"

"Yes," she said walking over to join us, "I saw them with my own eyes. I did everything I could to help before I came here but…" her voice trailed off and the two of them reached some unspoken understanding.

"Albus!"

We all turned to see a very worried Professor McGonagall striding towards us.

"Minerva, we have a grave situation in Hogsmead."

"Yes, I know Albus. I've already contacted headquarters, Alastor and the others are on their way as we speak."

"Very good. Ms. Nightshade, if you would be so kind as to escort Mr. Potter and your daughter to Gryffindor Tower and then join us at the Three Broomsticks?"

"Certainly. Come along you two, we've got no time to waste."

"But Professor!" I protested, "I can help! You know I can help!"

"Yes Harry, and that I why I need you here. To keep Miss Nightshade safe, and to tell Madame Pomfrey what's going on. Can you do that?"

"Yes sir." I replied, defeated. I knew a brush off when I heard one, and I really didn't want to leave Rein here by herself. Or endanger her by taking into the battle zone. "Come on Rein, we'll go to the Hospital Wing first. Good luck, Professor."


	18. Ch 17: Potions and Parseltongue

**Chapter 17: Potions and Parseltongue**

Having taken all the shortcuts, Rein and I reached the Hospital Wing long before Mina did. When she arrived, she launched into an account of what we didn't know.

"Death Eaters!" she exclaimed as she collapsed on the nearest bed. "In Hogsmead! They… tortured… Muggleborns…"

"Now, now Mina," said Madame Pomfrey, "calm yourself. Take deep breaths, that a girl…"

"A swarm of Death Eater attacked the Muggleborns in Hogsmead. They had Dementors with them! Severus and I cast a _Divinus Cintum_ but there were so many, and so many were panicking…"

"It's all right, it's all right. Gather up the ones you can. I'll ready the Infirmary for the arrivals. Where's Severus? I'll need some Phoenix Draught most definitely."

"He's in Hogsmead still…"

"Well I suppose I'll just have to make due. Go on, get back and do what you can. Send the injured here and I'll see what I can do for them."

Mina nodded and left.

"Madam Pomfrey?" I asked anxiously. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"He means is there anything _we_ can do to help?" Rein corrected me.

"Not unless either of you are any good at Potions" she replied, checking her stock of clean towels.

"I am." Rein said.

"Well then, I'll need several batches of Phoenix Draught, if you can brew it."

"Right away. Come on Harry, we need to find ingredients."

Xxx

I led Rein through the school towards the Potions classroom. "Why are we doing this again?"

"Because," she answered, "you want to help, don't you? This is the best way for us to do that. And you said you needed Potions tutelage, so there you have it."

"Killing two birds with one stone, eh?"

"Exactly. Is this it?"

"Yeah," I said, holding the door to the Potions storeroom open for her.

"I can believe that my dad teaches in the _dungeons_… If he's as cranky as you say he is, it's probably because of the fumes."

"I never thought of it that way…" I responded sheepishly.

We gathered the needed supplies and set up a few cauldrons in the empty classroom. Once all the chopping, crushing, powdering, and measuring was done, there wasn't much to do but stir the cauldrons and wait.

"So," Rein said, breaking the silence that had settled upon us, "I'm teaching you Potions. When do we start my Parseltongue lessons?"

"I guess there's no time like the present." I replied, adding my ground bear claws and stirring clockwise six times. "Let's start with something easy."

"Like…?"

"Counting. I'd start with the alphabet except there really isn't one. We'll count to ten. Repeat after me: ssa."

"Sa."

"Not 'sa', 'ssa'. You have to stretch all your 's' sounds in Parseltongue."

"Oh, ok. Ssah."

I laughed, and Rein gave me dirty look.

"Ssaa, no… ssa. Ha! Ssa!"

"Good job!"

"What did I say before?"

"Well, 'sa' doesn't mean anything. But 'ssah' means tail, so you essentially called me an arse, and 'ssaa' translates to something akin to idot."

"Oh, sorry… So what's two?"

"Eh, like '_a_ dog, _a_ cat', etc."

"Eh."

"Good. Ih."

"Ih."

"This one might be a little tricky. Sseh."

"Ssay."

"I'm glad you think so. Like this 's-s-a'."

"Sseh."

"Right."

"Isn't that what I said before?"

"You said ssay."

"I take it that's a compliment?"

"You called me handsome."

"Oh. Well, you are. Add the Phoenix tears and stir three times counter-clockwise."

"Ssa, eh, ih. There. Is it supposed to glow like this?"

"Yep."

"Siaheh."

"What's that mean?"

"Awesome."

"Oh… siaheh?" I nodded.

"Next is aht, which is like 'hot' without the 'h'."

"Aht. Like that?"

"Yep. Ith. Like 'sith' without the 's'."

"I hate Star Wars."

"Rein…"

"Ith."

"Ahss."

"_What_ did you just call me?!"

"Nothing! I said 'ahss'! It means 'seven'!"

"Mm hmm." She replied, giving me a disbelieving look.

"It does!"

"Yeah ok Harry…"


	19. Ch 18: Secrets

**Chapter 18: Secrets **

Rein and I spent the afternoon brewing potions and shuttling them between the dungeons and the Hospital Wing. It was fun at first, because I got to spend time with Rein. But after nearly three hours nonstop brewing, we'd exhausted the basics of _Parseltongue_, and there wasn't much to talk about. Well, except Snape.

"What do you think is taking him so long?" Rein worried aloud. I didn't have to ask who she was referring to – she'd asked the same question six times in the last half hour.

"Rein, I don't know what's taking your dad so long." I replied warily. "But whatever it is, it can't be too bad. My forehead doesn't even _itch_, let alone burn."

"Maybe you're right…"

We brewed in a worried silence (or at least it was worried on Rein's end) for another hour before the door was thrown open to reveal a battered, exhausted Professor Snape.

"Daddy!" Rein cried, throwing herself into his arms, "You're alright. You are aren't you?"

"Of course I'm alright," replied the Professor, sitting gingerly in the chair behind his desk, "I've been a spy for far longer than you've been _alive_ Rein. Occasionally, I like to think I know what I'm doing."

"I was concerned."

"I noticed." Then, "I see you kept Potter from running head first in danger. Congratulations, now pass me that burn salve."

Professor Snape was much more morose than he had been all summer. He stalked around the dungeons like a bat out of Hell, and snapped at the both of us if we made the slightest bit of noise. After an hour his mood began to rub off on me, and I abandoned father and daughter in favor of dinner in the Great Hall.

"Wotcher Harry." Tonks said after I nearly bowled her over in the doorway, "What's got your knickers in a twist?"

"Nothing." I replied as I helped myself to a sizeable amount of everything within arms reach. "Just tired of being in the dungeons I suppose."

"I understand, I never liked them much myself. I heard you were brewing potions for Madame Pomfrey."

"Yeah, I was just trying to help."

"I couldn't do it – I'm troll at Potions. Even melted a _desk_ once."

"An entire desk?" I asked, laughing, "How did you manage _that_?"

"Well, you know how dragon's blood is highly corrosive?"

Tonks and I had a grand time reliving our Potions mishaps (or in my case, Neville's Potions mishaps) over dinner, and it wasn't until I was passing the Potions classroom that I realized that Rein had missed dinner.

"Rein?" I called out as I peered into the classroom. "Rein, are you in here?"

"No she is not, Potter."

"Oh, sorry Professor, I didn't see you there."

"Clearly."

"Do you know where she might've gone? She wasn't at dinner, and I was wondering--"

"Rein has gone home." Snape answered briskly. "Mina decided that it was no longer safe for her here, and so she has returned to France for the duration of the summer."

"France?" I croaked. _But I… we were just getting to know each other._

"Must you repeat everything I say?"

"Sir, can I--"

"What you can _do_ Mr. Potter, is find your way to _bed_. We will be returning to my home first thing in the morning, and I expect no delays."

"But--"

"Go to bed!"

I hurried through the corridors, jumping at every noise and peering around corners at if there were something ominous lurking about. Twice I found myself whipping out my wand ready to do battle with some mysterious figure, just to find that it was only my reflection in the darkened windows. I couldn't stop thinking about Rein. _What did Snape mean when he said that it 'wasn't safe' here? I thought there wasn't any place safer than Hogwarts?_ As I rounded a corner, voices floated down the corridor from an open door, and I quietly crept closer to listen.

"It won't work."

"Minerva, have faith."

"Alastor is right, Black _cannot_ be brought back."

"Minerva…"

"No! Albus, you and I both know that there _is no way_ to bring someone back from the dead!"

"We don't know that Sirius _is_ dead, Minerva. No one knows where the Veil leads."

"No one knows because no one that passes through it returns."

"Perhaps they cannot return without aid."

"Perhaps dead men tell no tales."

"Minerva, I have faith that Mina will be able to do this. She is an Unspeakable."

"She _was_ an Unspeakable, Albus! And that was years ago, before she fled to Egypt."

"She was pregnant, Minerva. Surely you remember that?"

"So was Lily Potter, but she didn't flee the continent!"

"But Lily did go into hiding."

"It's not the same."

"She had just found out about a Prophecy that could set Voldemort on her heels, _yet again_. Minerva, what would you have done?"

"Surely going into hiding would have sufficed."

"She had not only Severus' position as a spy to safe guard, but also the life of her son and unborn daughter. She did what any mother would have done in her place."

"Rein wasn't even born July!"

"No, she was not. But how was Voldemort supposed to know that she would be born two weeks late? How was _anyone_ supposed to know?"

"Still the Prophecy said that _'the Dark Lord will mark **him** as his equal'_ and that _'**he** will have power the Dark Lord knows not'_. It clearly states that the child would be a boy!"

"Ah, but Voldemort never heard the Prophecy in its entirety. He only heard the beginning. _'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches. Born to parents who thrice defied Him… born as the seventh month dies...'_ He would not have know the gender of the child in question, only that this child would be born at the close of July."

"Even so Albus, what makes you think that _Wilhelmina_ can raise the dead?"

"She has done it before."

"Impossible!"

"She has. Ask Severus if you don't believe me. If my memory serves me correctly, she's resurrected him _several_ times."

"Albus--"

"Wilhelmina Nightshade comes from a _very_ long line of Egyptian Necromancers. If anyone can do this, she can."

There was a pregnant pause, in which I held my breath for fear of being found out and contemplated the curiousness of having been taught Potions by a man several times deceased.. It was broken by a question from McGonagall so quiet that, in all my musing, I nearly missed it.

"Why, Albus?"

"Because, Minerva, I owe this to him. If I had told him of the prophecy when he first asked, he might not have gone to the Ministry. If I had taught him Occlumency, then perhaps he would have never had the vision of Sirius being tortured. There are so many things that I could have done differently, Minerva, and didn't."

"Very well, Albus. But don't mention it to Potter until you are sure it can be done. There's no need getting his hopes up."

The door opened further and the patch of light on the floor widened, casting the Headmaster and McGonagall's shadows on the opposite wall. Just as I was backing away, I was grabbed from behind and silenced by a hand covering my mouth. I struggled fruitlessly against my unseen captor as I was pulled down the hallway and into an unoccupied room. The door closed behind us, and it wasn't until I felt a spell flare up around me that I found myself able to move of my own volition. I spun around, wand at the ready, only to come face-to-face with Professor Snape.

"Professor?" I asked, lowering my wand.

"What are you doing traversing the halls at this hour? Didn't I tell you to get to bed?"

"Sir, I--"

"What did you think you were _doing_? What did you hear?" he cut in, bearing down on me like Dementor ready to administer the kiss.

"I…"

"The truth Potter, if you will."

"They were talking about the Prophecy, and Mina being an Unspeakable and a Necromancer. And they said something about the Prophecy being applied to Rein, and--"

"That's enough! What you heard must never be revealed to _anyone_ under _any_ circumstances, do you understand? Do not speak of it to me, or to your friends, and _definitely_ not to Rein. Do not breathe a _word_ of this aloud, even when you fancy yourself alone. If anyone finds out what you heard, Mina and Rein will be marked for death, and if they are killed because of your _idiocy_, _I_ will kill _you_ myself. Understood?"

"Yes Professor." I said nodding vigorously.

"Good. Now _go to bed_!"

I nodded again, and hastily slipped past Snape into the now-empty corridor. It would not do to be caught out this late again. Once safely ensconced in Gryffindor Tower, I hastily readied for bed and lie down to rest. But my mind was frantically examining what I'd overheard, and when sleep finally did come, it was far from restful.


	20. Ch 19: Conflict

**Chapter 19: Conflict**

"I think I'll grow my hair out."

It wasn't so much a question as a declaration, but Snape answered it anyway.

"I should think _not_."

That's it. That's all he said. So simple, yet so… I'm not even sure how to describe it. Nor do I know why it offended me as much as I did.

"I don't care what you think of my appearance." I snapped. "_Yours_ is certainly nothing to brag about."

"Rein won't like it," he bit back.

"We'll see."

This animosity had unfortunately become the norm since the attack on Hogsmead cut Rein's visit drastically short. We had returned to Casa Snape to find letters from one Narcissa Malfoy piled three feet high on the dining room table. He wouldn't let me read them, but whatever she wanted made the Professor perfectly irate.

He was not, however, nearly as irate as Hermione.

When we'd returned from Hogwarts, I'd walked into my room to find half a dozen letters buried under what appeared to be the remains of twice as many Howlers. How she got her hands on that blasted red parchment is beyond me, but it looked at first glance that Madam Puddifoot had sent some of her cupids to rain confetti all over my desk. By the end of the week I was heartily sick of both the color red _and_ Hermione's voice. _If I get one more letter form her yelling about how I should have **told** her that I was living elsewhere,_ I thought after sitting through a particularly shrill lecture in which she had berated me for telling Ron first, _I'll send her a bloody Howler of her own, and hex it to follow her around bite her on the arse._

Her most recent Howler bleated on about how I'd been photographed "looking and absolute _mess_" leaving Twillfit and Tatting's. She yelled and shrieked about how, now that I was out of my relatives' care, I "no longer needed to look like a drowned cat" and I should "make more of an effort to look like a _civilized_ wizard". I wanted to Floo to her house and _choke _her, restrictions on underage magic be damned. I instead settled for returning her letter with a Howler of my own.

_HERMIONE JANE GRANGER_, it read in the most menacing voice I could muster, _HOW DARE YOU BERATE **MY** APPEARANCE! HAVE YOU **SEEN** YOURSELF LATELY? NOT ONLY DO YOU HAVE **TERRIBLE** POSTURE, BUT IT LOOKS LIKE SOME BIRD CLIMBED ONTOP OF YOUR HEAD, BUILT A NEST, AND **DIED**. _

_REMEMBER WHEN YOU ACCIDENTALLY POYLJUICED INTO MILICENT BULSTRODE'S CAT? YOU SHOULD HAVE **STAYED** THAT WAY! IT WAS A MUCH BETTER LOOK FOR YOU THAN THAT HORRENDOUS TUMBLEWEED-MOP HYBRID **YOU'RE** SPORTING! AS FOR **MY** HAIR, IT WAS NEATLY COMBED THAT MORNING _(which is actually true)_, AND I APPEARED DISHEVELED BECAUSE THERE WAS A **DEATH EATER ATTACK** AND I WAS TRYING TO GET TO SAFETY. _

_WHAT'S **YOUR** EXCUSE? YOU LOOK LIKE **THAT** EVERY DAY!_

_YOU KNOW HERMIONE, IF YOU SPENT LESS TIME BEING SUCH AN **INSUFFERABLE KNOW-IT-ALL** AND MORE TIME BEING A **GIRL** MAYBE PEOPLE WOULD FIND YOU MORE ATTRACTIVE. PITY YOUR BOOKS CAN'T HELP YOU IN THE LOOKS DEPARTMENT. OR IS YOUR STUCK-UP, HOLIER-THAN-THOU ATTIDTUDE YOUR WAY OF COVERING UP HOW BAD YOU ARE AT APPLYING GLAMOURS?_

_MAYBE YOU SHOULD STOP MEMORIZING THOSE DUSTY TOMES IN THE BACK OF THE LIBRARY AND FIND A BOOK THAT CAN TEACH YOU HOW TO CONJURE A **BOYFRIEND**. THAT WAY YOU'LL HAVE SOMEONE WHO'S SOUL IS AS DRY AND LIFELESS AS **YOURS**!_

It was after Hedwig had sailed out the window with the hexed parchment and a smug look on her face that I'd decided to voice my concerns about my appearance.

Which leaves us back where we started.

"It'll become an unexpected ingredient in one of your potions if you grow it long." Snape said as he sailed out of my room. "Dinner is in half an hour."


	21. Ch 20: Post

**Chapter 20: Post**

Dinner was an uneventful affair, as was the rest of the week. I only received one letter from Ron, and none from Hermione.

_Harry,_

_What the bloody hell did you say to Hermione? She wrote me saying that you guys had gotten into an argument. She wouldn't say about what, though. I figure you must have said something particularly nasty is because now that she's at the Burrow, she can't stand to talk about you. She says you're not friends anymore. I don't know what you talked about mate, but whatever it was, she's right pissed._

_Another thing: has she been acting weird to you? I mean, I guess you haven't seen her this summer just yet, but she's gone bloody crazy! She's always going on about her clothes and her hair and the like. I wonder if Luna's right about those Flabbaerts or whatever. If they're real then Hermione is most definitely possessed by one._

_Speaking of Luna, I've been writing her lately, and I've changed my mind about her. She's not 'loony' at all. She's actually rather bright, smarter than Hermione even. And she's funny – she says the wildest things! Did you know that Invisibility Cloaks are made from Demiguise fur? How about that the fastest breed of dragon is the Chinese Fireball? I tell you, that Luna is amazing. I like her a lot, and if you and Hermione don't make up, we can always replace her Luna._

_Fred and George say to tell you that they're doing well and will write you as soon as they put the finishing touches on something they're working on. _

_As always, Mum sends her love._

_--Ron_

Ron's letter amused me. _So he's got a crush on Luna?_ I thought as I mulled over my breakfast that morning, _About time he gave up on Lavender._ I finished my breakfast and was just getting up to go explore the library again when Pigwidgeon landed in my empty milk glass.

"Hyper little bugger aren't you?" I mused, turning my glass upside-down, "Got another letter for me?"

Pig chirped happily at being freed, shook himself dry, and stuck out his leg. There were two letters, one from Ginny, and one (presumably) from Fred and George. As I slit the first envelope open, I barely registered Snape getting up from his place and moving to my side.

"Give me that." he ordered. When all I managed to do was stare at him, he pulled the letter from Ginny out of my hands.

"What?" I asked, confused, "You don't think it's cursed, do you?"

"No, it's not cursed, Potter. I wouldn't have touched it myself if that were the case."

"Oh. Well…?"

"It's saturated in something." He said by way of explanation, "See how the parchment looks as though it's fallen into a cauldron?" He lifted the parchment and carefully sniffed it.

"What is it?"

"I'm not sure. I'll have to run some tests first, and then if it's safe you can have it back."

"Alright."

xxxx

After the revelation about Ginny's letter, I was much more careful with the twins'. Moody would have been proud. After I determined that there was no ill intent behind it (which took nearly an hour as I had to reference several books to find adequate spells), I settled down on my bed to read it.

_To Our Most Illustrious Benefactor,_

_It is with great pleasure that we inform you of a remarkable breakthrough for Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. We, your trusted friends, have created something so astounding that you have to see it to believe it. _

_You know what to do. _

_Mischief Managed,_

_Gred and Forge_

I smiled and shook my head. _Those two certainly have a flair for the dramatic._ I pulled out my wand, and, tapping the letter, whispered the password.

"I solemnly swear I am up to no good."

Just like with the Marauder's Map, the ink in on the parchment spread out to reveal an opening message:

_Messrs. Weasley, Weasley, Jordan, and Potter_

_Cohorts of Pranksters and Magical Mischief-Makers _

_Are proud to present_

_The Plunderer's Parchment_

_A companion to the Marauder's Map_

The smile on my face grew tenfold as I watched the parchment reveal its contents. _This is going to be good._ I thought. Laid out before me was a complete map of Beauxbatons Academy of Magic, Marauders-style. _Now I can keep an eye on Rein and make sure she's safe._ There was the unmistakable sound of footsteps in the hallway, and I hurriedly murmured "mischief managed" and tucked the 'letter' away.

"Potter?"

"Yes Professor?" I answered, trying to look as blameless as possible, "What's going on? Has something happened?"

"No," he said, surveying me with palpable suspicion, "I've finished with your letter. It was saturated in _Eratos_."

"_Eratos_, sir?"

"It is a love potion, notoriously hard to brew – I'm surprised Miss Weasley managed it. She certainly couldn't afford to _buy_ it."

"What does it do?" I asked, ignoring the jab at the Weasleys.

"A charmed potion, which are volatile in their own right, _Eratos_ is the kind of potion that only works on the intended victim."

"Victim?"

"I will not sugar-coat things for you Potter. Now, as I was saying. To take effect, _Eratos_ needs to be either applied in liquid form to the skin, or, as is evident in this case, applied to a cloth, parchment, or other sealable inanimate object. When opened by the intended, the potion will be released in a gaseous state and inhaled by the victim, causing them to lust after the person's whose blood it contains. I suspect this batch of _Eratos_ contains the blood of one Ginerva Weasley, although I cannot be sure as I have no sample with which to compare it."

"So," I said slowly, "you're telling me Ginny tied to dose me with some potion? Something to make me… interested in her?"

"That is precisely what I am saying. Perhaps you should inform her that you are seeing someone, and inform Rein that Miss Weasley is trying to ensnare you in her absence."

"I think I will. Rein deserves to know."

"Good. I will be in the lab, if you find yourself in need." Snape replied, gliding out of the room.


	22. Ch 21: Plots and Plans

A/N: Yahoo! Three chapters in one month! Go me! Go me!

**

* * *

Chapter 21: Plots and Plans**

To say Rein was mad when she found out what Ginny tired to do would be a _serious_ understatement. It would more appropriate to say that she was engulfed in righteous fury.

"She did _what_?" Rein inquired quietly.

"She tried to dose me with _Eratos_." I replied, squirming where I sat in front of the fireplace. _Seeing Mrs. Weasley angry is scary,_ I thought as Rein ranted on about how 'some girls just don't have an _ounce_ of integrity', _but Rein can give her **and** Voldemort a run for their money!_

"…and of course I'll have to return the _favor_ in kind."

"What do you mean?" That evil glint in Rein's eyes did _not_ bode well for Ginny.

"You'll see. Where did you say she lived again?"

"The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole. Why? You're not going to visit her… are you?"

"No… I thought I'd send her a friendly little Howler, that's all." She answered airily. The tone of her voice told me she was up to something, but I figured that a Howler couldn't possibly be all that life-threatening.

"Oh. Normally I wouldn't agree with this sort of thing – you don't even know her, after all – but she does kind of deserve it."

Rein smiled at me. "Yes, Harry, she does."

It was halfway through dinner before I found out exactly what Rein had been planning, although why Ginny sent _me_ a Howler has yet to be explained.

_HARRY JAMES POTTER_, it bleated as I helped myself to a second roll, _I DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU ARE PLAYING AT, BUT WHATEVER IT IS, YOU SHOULD JUST STOP! I CAN'T **BELIEVE** YOU! HOW MUCH DID YOU PAY HER TO WRITE ME SAYING THAT SHE'S YOUR GIRLFRIEND? AND ACCUSING ME OF TRYING TO TRICK YOU WITH A LOVE POTION? PERHAPS YOUR LITTLE FAN GIRL DOESN'T KNOW, BUT **I AM NOT A SLYTHERIN!** NOR AM I A HUFFLEPUFF! I KNOW THAT YOU DON'T HAVE A GIRLFRIEND! AND WHEN I FIND YOUR LITTLE FAN GIRL, SHE'LL BE IN A WORLD OF HURT FOR WHAT SHE DID TO MY FACE! AARGH!_

The Howler then proceeded to shred itself into confetti above my plate. _Ah well, I was finished anyway…_ Snape simply raised and eyebrow and asked if my post was always this opinionated before returning to his dessert. I sighed. _Do I want to know what Rein did to Ginny's face?_ The darkly amused look that Severus was sporting suggested that I'd find out whether I wanted to or not.

"Professor?"

"_Harry?_"

"My birthday is next week."

"Your point?"

"Well… I was just wondering if it would be alright for me to have some friends over."

"I assume by 'friends' you mean Granger, Weasley, Longbottom, and Weaslette?"

"Yes, as well as Fred, George, Lee, and Rein."

"Hmm… You'll need a chaperone to insure against mishaps, but I suppose that is feasible. _If_ you've finished all your summer homework, that is."

"I was thinking that maybe Remus and Mina could help you chaperone. And I promise to keep Neville away from the lab and Hermione away from the library. If she shows." The last part was said rather quietly, but Snape heard it anyway.

"Are you and Miss Granger not getting along?"

I sighed. "We had a bit of a row, and Ron told me in his last letter that she said that we're not friends anymore. I'm not sure if she still feels that way."

"I see."

"So… I'll write up and send some invitations then. Question."

"Yes?"

"Do I send Rein's invitation to Ambrosia Place? I know you said she was going to France…?"

"Yes. Send it to Ambrosia Place. The owl will find her if she isn't there."

"Can I use a couple of your post owls? It's a bit much for Hedwig, especially if she needs to carry responses."

"Of course. Let me know when you send them and who's coming. I'll need to adjust the wards for the day."

"Yes sir."

xxx

Planning for the party was exhausting. I spent the better part of Wednesday planning out things to do and drafting invitations. I'd gone through several horrifically bland incarnations before I gave up trying to make my handwriting legible and simply settled for a spell that would make the parchment proclaim whatever I wanted it to. On Thursday I stuffed the invitations (which were charmed black with gold flecks) into their coordinating envelopes and sent the owls on their merry way. There were invitations for Rein, Mina, Gred, Forge, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, Luna, Remus, Viktor Krum, Lee Jordan, Daphne Greengrass, and Blaise Zambini.

Hermione was the first to respond. "I guess we're not friends after all." I murmured as I discarded Hermione's hastily written response. Remus' response ("I'd be honored to share your birthday with you, Harry.") came at lunch that same day, and Viktor's came just before dinner. Fred, George, and Lee sent their responses together.

_Our Illustrious Leader_, it began, _let us first say that we, Messrs. Weasley, Weasley, and Jordan, are deeply honored to be invited to celebrate with you this day of days._

_What George means is of course we'll come – what, you thought we'd say no? And miss a chance to meet your new girlfriend? Ha! _

_I have to agree with Fred – I want to meet this lady friend of yours. You should see what she did to Ginny's **face**! Anyone that can pull off a stunt like **that** is ace in my book!_

_Now as I was saying before I was so **rudely** interrupted, we, the proprietors of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, would like to bestow upon you, our most generous benefactor, our Deflagration Deluxe, Non-Explodable Luminous Balloons, and Reusable Hangman, free of charge. _

_Like we would charge you anyway! I mean, you're **you**!_

_Oh Fred, you have such a way with words. _

_Shut up Lee, you prat._

_Takes one to know one._

_**Like I was saying**, we will definitely be in attendance. _

_Perhaps we should come early to help set things up?_

_Sounds like a plan, Lee._

_Expect to see us around the noon hour on the thirty-first. _

_-- Gred, Forge, and Lee_

Ron and Ginny sent their responses together (which weren't nearly as long as their brothers'), and Luna sent me a letter asking if she could bring her puffskein along. Daphne accepted, as did Rein and Mina, but Blaise did not.

_Dear Potter,_

_I regret to inform you that, due to unforeseen circumstances, I will not be able to attend your birthday extravaganza. My step-father has recently taken violently ill, with no foreseeable chance of recovery. The Healers have given him a week to live, and it would be poor form for me to leave him in this time of need. _

_Best wishes,_

_Blaise Adim Zambini_

Somehow, I rather doubted that he was going to spend the day at his step-father's bedside, but I still sent him a response expressing my condolences for his loss. _After all, _I mused, _the man is dying. _

On Monday I received another letter: Blaise could come after all.

_It turns out,_ he wrote, _that we had to have the funeral this past Saturday. The body was decaying so quickly that if we'd waited any longer, there would have been nothing left to bury._

"How convenient." Snape said when I told him the news. "How convenient indeed."


	23. Ch 22: Laughter

**Chapter 22: Laughter**

The days until the party passed rather quickly, and before you could "bumbling banging band of baboons" the thirty-first had arrived. I ran around all day making sure that the manor was sparkling (not like there was much to do with house-elves running all over the place), and I must have changed clothes six times before the fireplace turned green and spit out Lee and the Weasley twins.

"Punctual,"

"As always." Fred said, finishing where his brother left off.

"Gred, Forge, Lee." I replied in greeting.

"Misters Weasley and Jordan, welcome. I'll leave you to your… frivolities, shall I?" Snape said, sweeping out of the room in a swirl of black. "Potter, if you need anything, you know where to find me."

"Wow Harry, who knew the great greasy git lived in such a wicked house?" Lee said after they'd set up the festivities and I'd shown them around the house.

"Yeah, Gred and I always thought he'd live underground--"

"Or in a cave--"

"Or a shack--"

"Or an abandoned church."

"And that he slept upside-down--"

"Hanging from the rafters or something."

I rolled my eyes at the twins' antics. "He's not a vampire you know."

"Are you sure about that?" Lee asked, flopping down on my bed.

"Yes, I'm sure. He just doesn't get enough sun, is all."

"If you say so Harry."

"So," I said, sitting down between Lee and Fred, "what does Ginny's face look like?"

Fred and George shared a look before turning back to me. "Have you ever seen a picture of our Great Aunt Tessie?"

"Not that I know of. I've heard about her though. Ron said she smells like moth balls and old, damp socks. Or something like that."

"Yeah…" Another shared look. "Take Ginny--"

"And take Voldemort--"

"The snake-faced Voldemort, not the 'Tom Riddle' Voldemort--"

"And breed them." George finished, watching the myriad of emotions I knew was flying across my face.

"You're serious?" I asked, looking from one twin to the other.

"You forgot to tell him to age it by about 80 years." Lee added.

"Gross…"

"Yeah, Ginny's got a wart on the end of her nose and everything."

"And she even _smells_ like Aunt Tessie!"

"Wonder how your bonnie lass got a picture of the old bird…"

"Hmm…" The twins wondered together.

I laughed at their puzzled faces. "Rein's resourceful, so I wouldn't put it past her."

"Yeah?" Lee wondered.

"Yeah."

There was a comfortable moment of silent contemplation. Then "I can't believe you chose to live with _Snape_."

"Yeah well, it makes it easier to keep up a long-distance relationship when you live with your girlfriend's father."

"You're dating _Snape's_ daughter?" Lee exclaimed, horrified.

"I didn't even know he _had_ a daughter!"

"I wonder what his _wife_ looks like, that she'd marry someone like _him_?"

"Mina's quite pretty, actually." I stated, smiling at the astonished looks on their faces. "Rein too."

"Wow…"

"Yeah, wow." Fred echoed.

"So… this 'Rein' girl…" Fred inquired, changing the subject.

"What about her?"

"How far have you gotten with her? Is she a good kisser?"

I chucked a pillow at Fred's head. "I'm not telling you that!"

"Aww, come on Harry! You're like a brother to us!"

"So?"

"Tell us!"

"No!" I said dodging a pillow aimed for my head. "You can't make me!"

"We'll see about that!"


	24. Ch 23: Party Time

**Chapter 23: Party Time**

After setting up the hoards of favors the twins and Lee had supplied and a brief (albeit entertaining) lunch that included dancing pastries and a half-scowling, half-laughing Severus, the tree of us retreated to the entrance hall to greet the incoming guests. The first to arrive was Ron, Luna, Remus, and Ginny – who was hideously disfigured beyond all belief. The word "SKANK" was scrawled across her face from ear to ear, and while Marietta's had only looked like a nasty bout of acne, Ginny's looked as though someone had taped a string a Christmas lights to her face. The pustles were large, throbbing, and changed colors with every breath she took. Her hair had been charmed short, grey, and frizzier than Hermione's on a _bad_ hair day, and she was so rotund that she could have given my uncle Vernon a run for his money. Needless to say, I couldn't help but stare in awe at Rein's handiwork.

"Wow… Ginny, you look, erm…" I looked to the twins for help, but the simply turned away and snickered behind Lee's back. "Did you do something with your hair?"

Ginny burst into tears.

"There, there." Luna said, rubbing her back comfortingly, "It could be worse. You could be smelly on top of it all."

Ginny glared at Luna. "Easy for you to say, with your long blonde hair and small waist and flawless complexion."

"Thank you." Luna replied, untangling a paw-shaped earring from her hair, "I do try so very hard."

"Well you definitely succeed." Ron said, brushing a bit of soot from her sleeveless, Chudley Cannons orange robes. Normally, that color hurts my eyes, but on Luna, it was almost pretty. Almost.

"Well Harry," Remus said smiling, "Happy Birthday! How are you enjoying it so far?"

"It's been…" I looked over at the twins and Lee. "Interesting, to say the least."

The distinct _click_ of heels on tile preceded Severus's entrance.

"Lupin."

"Severus, how are you?"

"I'll be better once I have my home back to the status quo."

Behind us, the fire flared to life and revealed Blaise Zambini, Daphne Greengrass, and, Viktor Krum.

"Hello Harry, 'ave you been keeping up with Quidditch?"

"Yes, you were brilliant in that last game against the magpies."

"Potter." Blaise said, inclining his head in greeting.

"Viktor, Zambini, Greengrass. Thank you for coming."

"Thank you for inviting us." Daphne replied.

"Why _did_ you invite us, Potter? It's not like we're friends."

"You're not _my_ friends, no, but you are Rein's. I didn't want her to come and have nobody tot talk to if I leave the room."

"I see."

"That's very sweet of you, Harry." Daphne smiled, nudging Blaise in the ribs. He rolled his eyes.

"Whatever you say darling."

"Excuse me," Neville called from the fireplace, causing Blaise to jump aside startled.

"Sorry Longbottom, I didn't see you there."

"It's alright, I've only just arrived. Happy Birthday Harry."

"Happy Birthday to you too." I smiled. "Now we're just waiting for Rein and Mina."

The fire flared to life a fourth time and everyone moved aside as Mina stepped through.

"Hello Harry."

"Hi Mina, where's Rein?"

"Mmm? Oh, she wanted to make a 'grand entrance'." Mina rolled her eyes, "Honestly, she can be so over-dramatic at times. She must get it from her father."

Severus snorted, amused. "Well, she has to get _something_ from me. Otherwise I'd wonder where we found her."

"Severus!" Mina admonished, wrapping her arms around him. "Take that back!"

"Make me."

"OK…" I said, pulling them apart lest they weird my friends out even more by snogging in front of them, "that's definitely enough of _that_."

Severus let out a long-suffering sigh. "If we must…"

Just then, a thick cloud of purple smoke began to pour out of the fireplace, obstructing our view of the inside completely. A flash of thunder and a strong gust of wind later, the smoke cleared to reveal Rein, looking more radiant than I thought possible. She was wearing a sleeveless rose colored top, a pair of cuffed navy shorts, and black high-heeled sandals. Her finger and toenails were perfectly manicured, and she had a pale pink rose in her hair.

"Hello Harry." She said in that whimsical voice of hers.

"Hi…" I said, my mouth suddenly dry. "It's – ahem – we were just talking about you."

"In a good way, I hope?"

"We were wondering where we found you." Severus said smirking.

"I'm sure nana wondered the same about you, dad."

Severus stuck his tongue out at her.

"So…" I floundered, looking for something to say, "These are um, my friends. Ron, Luna, Fred, George, Neville, Lee, and--"

"You must be Ginny," Rein drawled, extending her hand, "I'm Rein, Rein Nightshade. Harry's girlfriend."

"You – you--" Ginny sputtered, her eyes darting between me and Rein.

"Me, me." Rein said, in her most Snape-worthy tone. "I see you opened my… gift."

"Your curse more like it!" Ginny raged.

"Well, that's what you get for trying to ensnare my boyfriend with your little potion." She responded, placing her hand over my rapidly-beating heart and smiling deviously. "Too bad, so sad. Hello Daphne, Blaise."

"Hi Rein!" Daphne said enthusiastically, "Nice catch."

"Thanks, I think so too. How's your step-father Blaise?"

"Dead."

"Oh… I'm sorry."

"I'm not – he was a right foul prat if you ask me."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Blaise."

"What? It's the _truth_."

"Anybody want punch?" I asked, deliberately changing the subject.

"Later Harry," George said, "first let's play a round of Hang Man!"

"Noose included!" Fred chirped.

We all laughed at Fred and George's antics and dutifully relocated to the parlor, where we lost game after game to the twins Weasly. Severus insisted that it was because they insisted on using four and five letter words he said were "completely unsuitable for polite company". (Gred and Forge simply shrugged, saying that they'd feel a lot worse about it if they were _in_ polite company.)

xxx

After the party games were played, the food was eaten, and the presents were unwrapped, we all sat outside eating cake and ice cream and watched the impressive fireworks show the twins and Lee had engineered. As I sat on the lawn with my arm around Rein under the twinkling stars and flashing lights of pinwheels, I couldn't help but bask in the calm perfection of it all. I was with my friends, having fun, and my scar hadn't so much as tingled all day.

_Today was a good day._ I thought laying back on the grass. _And nothing could happen to change that._

Fate picked that exact moment to send my life straight to Hell.


	25. Ch 24: Scenes and Secrets

**A/N:** If you haven't noticed, chapters 22 and 23 are different then they had originally been. I realized looking at it that chapter 22, which is entitled Laughter, was never added. That has been fixed. Now that that's been addressed, enjoy the chapter, and don't forget to review!

**Chapter 24: Scenes and Secrets**

A searing pain cut across my forehead, and without so much as a by-your-leave, I was plunged into one of Voldemort's visions from Hell. Choirs of screams slammed into my auditory senses with the force of a hundred Bludgers, and after a moment the vertigo subsided enough for me see. As I surveyed the carnage around me, I could not help but wish that I was back at Warrior Way. It was sickening, to say the very least, the way that I could feel Voldemort's intensely erotic pleasure as he watched his minions torture a village of Muggle-borns to death. Left and right there were men, women, and children being Crucioed into insanity and struck down with the Killing Curse as casually as a veterinarian would put down a rabid animal. Houses were being pillaged, storefronts burned to the ground, and the hellish orange glow of the flames illuminated the Town Square where the most chilling events I have ever seen, and likely _will_ ever see, were taking place. Standing in the middle of the destructive chaos was a man with wild hair and wilder eyes, skinning a woman alive in front of her family and howling like a wolf at the crescent moon.

Fenrir Greyback, the Boogey-man himself.

I prayed desperately for the vision to end, and looked away from the grotesque scene, only to have my eyes meet with the large, brown eyes of a small girl. _She couldn't have been more than six._ I thought, staring into her dull, lifeless eyes. _She was an innocent._ But her innocence had not saved her. No one's innocence had saved them. Much as I wished otherwise, I already knew that there would be no survivors this night. Come morning, there would be nothing left of the village but charred wood and the bloody remains of human carcasses.

_It's not fair._ I thought, seething with righteous fury. _It wasn't enough for you to steal everything I held dear to me, was it Tom? You had to steal from them too! _I pushed my thoughts to the forefront of Voldemort's mind, forcing him to hear me. _You steal the life and happiness from others so that you can be happy. You take pleasure in hurting these innocent people. Enjoy it while you can. Your day __**will**__ come, Tom, perhaps sooner than you think._

_You think you can defeat me, Harry Potter? You dare threaten __**me**__, the greatest wizard of the age? _Cold laughter echoed through my head. _Very ambitious, for a mudblood. Tell me, Harry. If your parents __**together**__ couldn't defeat me, what makes you think that you can do it alone?_

_Who says I'm alone?_ I answered. _My parents didn't know your secret._

_And you do?_

_Yes._

_You expect me to believe that a mere child, cut off from all things magical for the first eleven years of his life, and again for every summer afterward, has learned my secret? _He scoffed. _If that twinkling old coot Albus Dumbledore hasn't figured it out, then you haven't either._

_Don't be so certain of that, __**Tom**__. I know all about the precautions you took to insure against your death. _

_You know nothing!_

_Don't I? You should have listened to Wormtail, Tom. He told you to use someone else for the ritual. _

I could feel Voldemort's outrage and confusion leaking through the bond. I _was_ bluffing, but he didn't have to know that, now did he?

_What about the ritual? There was nothing there to reveal my secrets!_

_Did you honestly think that I wouldn't research Necromancy rituals and put two and two together? _I chided._ Combined with the way you can see out of Nagini's eyes whenever you want…_

_You know nothing! _He repeated scathingly. _You are a pathetic schoolboy, with equally pathetic research and reasoning skills! You couldn't have possibly found out about them! No one knows about them other than myself! No one!_

_No one except you and I, you mean. _I remarked, praying for him to reveal his secret.

_You don't know about my Hor—_

A blast sounded off to the left, causing a bit of debris to crash into Voldemort, interrupting our connection and flinging me out of his mind and back into my own. I jerked awake, swearing colorfully enough to cause even the Weasley twins to blush a fair shade of crimson.

"Harry! Harry, calm down!" Rein shouted. "Just calm down and tell us what happened."

I took a couple of somewhat calming breaths, before I described in detail what I'd just witnessed.

"And just as he was about to reveal his secret, there was an explosion! Some of the debris must have hit him, because the link was broken after that." I finished in a huff.

"Wow…" Fred breathed, everyone else nodding in agreement. "That sucks."

"No," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "It's wonderful."

"Actually it is." Rein mused, causing me to turn and look at her as though she'd grown a second head. "No, think about it. You didn't even know what to look for, before. But now we know that whatever it is that's keeping him alive, it likely begins with 'H-O-R'."

"_They_ likely begin with 'H-O-R'." I replied, massaging my aching temples. "He said 'them', which implies more than one."

"True."

I sighed. "I guess now all I have to do is figure out something that begins with 'H-O-R' and could keep a soul anchored to the living realm after it's been separated from its body."

"Easy." Fred said.

"Child's play." Said George.

I snorted. "You guys are forgetting who you're talking to. _Nothing's_ ever simple with me."

"No," Severus drawled, "but it might not be as hard as you think. Whatever it is, it's bound to be Dark in nature, and there's a library at _his_ house, that has plenty of books on Dark Artifacts."

"Who's house?" Rein asked.

"Sirius'."

"Your godfather's?"

"Long story short, his family was Dark and he wasn't so they disowned him. When the rest of them had died off, he inherited it by default."

"Oh."

"Yeah. I inherited it when he…" My voice trailed off as an image of Sirius falling through the veil replayed in my mind. "When he was murdered." I finished quietly.

Rein rubbed my back comfortingly. "I'm sorry."

"So am I."

xxx

A muffled _thud_ resonated through the library as I closed yet _another_ Dark Arts text and set it aside.

"This isn't working." I sighed, frustrated at my lack of progress. "There _has_ to be a better way of doing this. Kreacher!"

A quiet _pop_ accompanied his appearance. Dresses in a black butler's ensemble, Kreacher was looking more upstanding by the day.

"Kreacher," I said, shifting a pile of scrolls aside so I could see him, "is there a way to make this search go faster?"

"Kreacher does not know many wizard spells, but Kreacher did overhear the late Master Regulus using a spell to search the texts once." the elf nodded sagely. "He was saying '_conperio horcrux'_ over and over. Kreacher is not knowing what he was looking for."

"Thanks Kreacher, you've been a big help."

The elf bowed and disappeared.

"Maybe now I might be able to get somewhere…" I muttered, flipping open a text entitled _Dark Times and Darker Arts_. "_Conperio horcrux._"

The ancient tome opened and its pages turned rapidly, only stopping once half the pages had been turned. I scanned the page, and finding the word 'Horcruxes' highlighted, began to read.

_**Abolere Infernalis**_

_The Hell Banishment Curse_

_Created by Cardea in 1047 AD, this curse is typically used to destroy creatures or beings that cannot be killed by any conceivable mortal means. Primarily used to execute Vampyres, Lycanthropes, Veela, Inferni, and Phoenixes (as well as to destroy artifacts that guard against mortal death, such as Horcruxes), this curse banishes the offending body into the Realm of the Dead. During Medieval times this spell was often used to inflict upon mortal men a fate worse than death. _

_For more on Cardea, refer to pages 394- 414 in the text _Protector of Souls _by Abraham Van Helsing. For more on Horcruxes, refer to the text _Volta de Morte_ by Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin._

* * *

**A/N2:** _Conperio _is a Latin verb meaning "to find, learn, or discover". Cardea is the Roman goddess of thresholds and health, who protects small children against vampire-witches. Abraham Van Helsing is a character in Bram Stoker's _Dracula_, and _volta de morte_ is Portuguese for "return from the dead". 


	26. Ch 25: Searching

**A/N: **Some of you have expressed concerns about the Harry/Rein relationship. Yes, they _are_ a couple. They consider themselves to be exclusive to each other, and so they are. Another concern has arisen about my use of the term _volta de morte_. Yes, I do know that no one would say "return from the dead" in that manner. I used that phrase for a reason, which will be explained more later. This chapter was going to be a LOT longer, but the old file kinda got replaced by the one on my flash drive, so... yeah. Next chapter will have a bit more in it. Review!

**Chapter 25: Searching**

I stared, dumbfounded, at the page. _Volta de Morte?_ I though, perplexed. _Sounds a lot like 'Voldemort' to me._ I rubbed my hands over my tired eyes. It couldn't be this easy. I was missing something important, and I knew it. A shadow fell over the page and I looked up to see Professor Snape watching.

"Find anything?" he asked, sitting gracefully in the only chair not occupied by books.

"Maybe. Have you ever heard of a book called _Volta de Morte_?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment before shaking his head slowly. "I don't recall hearing of a book by that name… who's the author? Maybe I've heard of them."

"Some guy named Rasputin."

"Grigori Rasputin? I didn't know he wrote a book."

"But you have heard of him?" I asked, leaning forward in anticipation. "He does exist?"

"Yes," Severus drawled, drumming his nails on the wooden tabletop, "He was a holy man of sorts. Rumored to have been a practitioner of Dark Arts… and notoriously hard to kill."

"Was he a wizard?"

"I'm not sure exactly. Perhaps… he _was_ known to be a profound healer… among other things."

"Was… That means he's dead." I slumped back in my chair. "There wouldn't be a way to channel his spirit or something, would there?"

"There is, but you wouldn't want to. It's not advisable to channel the spirits of those who have died a violent death. Their spirits are known to be quite… hostile." He said slowly.

"Oh." The two of us sat in silent contemplation for several minutes before I broke the silence by asking, "So, assuming it exists, where would we find a book like this?"

"Hmm.." Severus stood, brushing imaginary lint from his robes. "I will see if I cannot… _acquire_ it for you. Lunch is ready by the way."

xxx

I spent the rest of the week scouring the house for every scrap of information I could find on the subjects of evading one's death. By Saturday, nothing looked promising.

"Ah, Harry." Professor Dumbledore said as he settled down next to me in the library, where I was (once again) pouring over dusty tomes. "Brushing up on your studies?"

"No, sir." I replied, setting one book aside and opening another. "I'm looking for something."

"I see. Well… perhaps I could shed some light on the situation for you? Lemon drop?"

I shook my head. "No thank you. What do you know about becoming immortal?"

The twinkle left the Headmaster's eyes, and he gave me a look of suspicion and cold calculation. "Why would you want to know about that?"

"I'm trying to find out how Voldemort's managed to stay alive when he obviously should be dead."

"Why? Thinking of trying it yourself?"

"No…" I said slowly, "especially not if it involves getting bitten by a vampire. I'm trying to figure out what he did, so I can _undo_ it."

"I see." He stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I think… and this is just my theory, that Tom created a Horcrux."

"You mean that he created _some_ Horcrux_es_." I said setting yet another book aside. "I'm sure he'd make several, just in case."

"Most likely, yes."

"_So_, I need to know what they are and how they're made, so I can figure out how they're destroyed."

"So you can defeat Tom."

"Yes. Severus – I mean professor Snape – is going to try to find me a book."

The Headmaster smiled. "I', glad the two of you are getting along so well, Harry."

I shrugged. "It helps that we have something in common."

"I see. Well," he said standing, "If you need my assistance, do not hesitate to ask. I think I shall go bother our favorite werewolf. He's been sulking for far too long…"

"Professor?"

"Yes?" He replied, sticking his head around the doorframe.

"I was wondering if I could bring a portrait of my family to school with me this term?"

"I can see why you would want to, but I'm afraid that it would not be very advisable. The portraits might keep you dorm mates awake, and we can't have that, now can we?"

I sighed. "No," I said in a dull voice, "I suppose not. Thank you, Professor."


	27. Ch 26: Retrieval

**A/N:** To find out just how Snape acquired the book, see the ficlet, _Calling in Favors_.

**Chapter 26: Retrieval**

"Harry, I have that… _item_ we discussed." Severus announced, handing me a parcel the size and weight of _Hogwarts, a History_. I didn't ask him how he'd done it – I was simply relieved that he had.

"Thank you sir." I said, peeling off the brown paper to reveal a book bound in black dragon hide. As I opened to the first page, a chill crept into the room.

"Did you feel that?" I asked Snape.

"Yes, it does have a rather _ominous_ feel to it." He replied.

I only nodded and continued turning the pages. The ink glittered in the now dimmed candlelight, and the pages had a texture quite unlike any parchment I'd ever felt.

"What kind of ink is this? And the pages… this isn't normal parchment, is it?" I inquired of the Professor.

"It's not _ink_, per se… and that's not parchment either."

I traced my hand across the page, relishing the velvety feel of it. "What is it?"

"Unicorn."

My hand stalled over the page. "This book was written with _unicorn blood_?"

Snape nodded. "And the pages made of its hair, yes."

I could feel his eyes on me. "How many…?"

"There are three copies of this book in existence. This is the only one that has been translated into English. The others are in the original Russian; one is the original scroll."

"And whoever translated this copy did it this way because…"

"Because it was the only way. The spells won't work unless the book has been written in the blood of the innocent on the skin of the innocent, and bound in the skin of a dragon."

"That's… barbaric."

"Not as barbaric as it could be. The original scroll is rumored to have been written on the skin of a virgin priestess and in the blood of her stillborn sister."

"That's… sick. Just… no, I don't even want to think about that. How could anyone _do_ something like that?"

"You'd be surprised what people would go through to cheat Death."

"Yeah…"

Xxx

Reading _Volta de Morte_ was interesting – if not gruesome and depressing. _Anything_ could be used as a Horcrux – even other people. To think that someone would be evil enough to stick part of their soul in someone else's body... I shuddered. If that were the case with Voldemort, then who _knows_ how many innocents I'd have to go through to be rid of him? And the number a person could make were virtually limitless! One man recommended six – seven is the most magically charged number in the universe, and if you had six Horcruxes, you'd have seven pieces of your soul. Rasputin disagreed. He believed that you should have _eight_ – so that you could have nine lives, like a cat. He also believed in making Horcruxes out of cats, so that you could essentially have seventy-three chances to cheat death. _I honestly hope that Voldemort didn't listen to him…_

The book wasn't _just_ about making Horcruxes – it also had the ritualistic procedures needed to return to corporeal form. Apparently, Voldemort did it wrong – you're not supposed to use the blood of your enemy; you're supposed to use the blood of a friend or lover. I snorted. _Like Tom Riddle had any __**lovers**_ The blood of your enemy would _do_, but if you wanted to return with the full range of powers that you possessed before you lost corporeal form, you had to use the blood of someone that "held you dear to their heart, and keeps you there always". Bellatrix would have worked easily – there isn't anyone more devoted to him than her – except maybe Barty Crouch Jr.

The further I got into the book, the more disturbing it got. It gave details on how to "sever your soul" and "call the shard from beyond the veil to anchor it to a vessel". And there were more ways to rip your soul than just killing someone – if you tortured them into insanity that would work too. _Better not tell Bellatrix that…_ There were also ways to make Horcruxes for someone else – I skipped that chapter altogether. And there were ways to permanently resurrect the dead – even if you didn't have a body for them. So, theoretically, I could resurrect Sirius or my parents…but would they _want_ to come back? _Probably not,_ I thought morosely, _they're probably happy._

Xxx

Hours passed as I sat in the library, bent over the ancient tome. How long exactly I sat there, I have no idea.

"Harry." Snape said, stepping into the library, "Put the book down and get some rest. My colleague said that spending too much time with it could have negative effects on your mental state."

"Just let me finish this chapter." I said, my eyes never leaving the book.

"No. Put the book away, get dinner, and go to bed."

"But Professor--"

Snape stormed over to the table and shut the book with a decisive _thud_. "Now."

I sighed, knowing I was defeated. "Yes sir."

Snape's eyes followed me as I collected my things. "I want to be rid of him just as much as you do Harry, but this book is a _dark artifact_. Prolonged contact with such an item has been known to unhinge wiser men than Albus. I must _insist_ that you do not spend more than two consecutive hours with this book."

"Yes sir."

"Good." Snape followed me to the door and rested a hand on my shoulder. "There are some leftovers in the cupboard in the kitchen. After you eat, I suggest you get some rest. Lupin will be by to take you to Diagon Alley in the morning."


	28. Ch 27: Exploring Possibilities

**A/N:** You guys really inspire me to write. Keep on reviewing!

**Chapter 27: Exploring Possibilities**

A series of thuds resonating from the general direction of my bedroom door made me snap awake, wand at the ready.

"Who is it?" I called from my position on the far side of the bed.

"Remus. Can I come in?" came the muffled reply.

"Yes." I kept my wand pointed at the door as the door opened.

"Harry?" a Remus-looking man inquired.

I peered over the top of the mattress. "Who or -- what -- is Prongs?"

"Prongs was your father's Animagus form, a creator of the Marauder's Map, and a dear friend of mine. Harry is this really necessary? Where are you?"

I stood up and shrugged my shoulders. "With a homicidal maniac on the loose one can never be too careful. Constant vigilance and all that."

Remus smiled. "Alastor would be proud. Get dressed, I want to get to Flourish and Blotts before the rush."

"It's August Remus – there's always a rush."

"Truer words were never spoken."

Xxx

The trip to the Alley (which is normally rather eventful) was far less colorful than it had been in previous years. A lot of the stores were boarded up, and the shoppers were scurrying fearfully, as though they were afraid that some unseen evil was lurking just around the corner.

"At least the Twins' shop is still up and running." I commented to Remus as we passed the now-closed Ollivander's.

"Mmm… _should_ we be worrying about You-No-Poo?" He asked, eyes twinkling in mirth.

"It does sound rather fearsome, doesn't it?" I replied, trying not to laugh.

"Don't laugh – constipation can be a most horrible torture." He scolded, lips twitching.

"I didn't say it wasn't." I chuckled, opening the door of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes.

"Oi!" said Fred as we walked in, "Gred, look who it is!"

"If it isn't our favorite benefactor!" George exclaimed, coming over to greet us. "What can we interest you blokes in? We have Invisibility Hats…"

"And Decoy Detonators…"

"And Instant Darkness Powder --"

"Straight from Peru." They suggested simultaneously.

"Actually," I smirked, glancing at Remus, "Moony and I were wondering what you could tell us about the fearsome You-No-Poo…"

xxx

Severus was in his lab brewing, as per usual, when I finally sought him out after I finished reading _Volta de Morte_.

"Professor?" I inquired, knocking on the frame of the open door, "May I have a word?"

"You may," he replied stirring some concoction thrice clockwise, "just as soon as you store that book elsewhere. Its ominous aura could contaminate the phoenix tears, and we don't want that, now do we?"

I nodded and, after storing the book in an empty study, returned.

"I have a question." I began, sliding onto a stool across the bench from Snape.

"So ask."

"What would happen if you cut off your Dark Mark?"

"It would re-grow itself," he murmured, sprinkling the potion with something orange, "why?"

"Would the amputated Mark keep its magic?"

"The Chaos Magic that created it? Most likely. Why?"

"I just had an idea, is all." I picked up a vial of silvery liquid and studied it. "What's this?"

"Unicorn afterbirth. Are you going to tell me this ingenious idea of yours or not?"

I pulled a face. "Gross. I was thinking that if you're willing to, ah, _lend an arm_, we could use the amputated Dark Mark and an advanced locator charm to find Voldemort's Horcruxes. It was his magic that created it, so the Mark should be able to focus the locator charm on his soul fragments."

"In theory."

"Yes."

Snape added a few seeds to the potion, which then turned the shade of slightly tarnished gold. "The only flaw that I foresee is the Mark leading us to Voldemort himself."

"Yes… but it would only do that if he were summoning you, right? It otherwise isn't attuned to his person."

"Perhaps… I suppose there's no harm in trying. I'll try it myself first, just in case. If it works, we can use it. If not…"

"Back to the drawing board." I agreed. "Thank you for your help, Professor."

"If it could free me of my servitude and banish the evil that stalks my family, then I will be your guinea pig. Pass me the dragon liver."

Xxx

That Wednesday saw the Professor and I in his lab, ready to test out my new theory.

"You're sure you want to do this? I could call up the Ministry and have them send us Pettigrew's if you want instead."

"I'm not a Hufflepuff, Potter." came the stiff reply.

"If you're _sure_…" I said, giving him one last chance to back out.

"Just do it. And be quick about it."

"Do you want to numb it or something first?"

"Did you take out the Clotting Serum like I instructed?"

"Yes."

"No." He watched as I picked up a silver knife. "Use a severing charm," he said, "it'll be cleaner."

"Yes sir. Ready?" I asked a final time.

"Just get it over with."

I nodded. "Diffindo!"


	29. Ch 28: Luna

**Chapter 28: Luna**

To say the results were not what we were expecting would be a _serious_ understatement. After several attempts by Snape to locate a Horcrux only succeeded in him remaining exactly where he was, we admitted failure.

"Ok," I sighed, "either the idea is a failure, or we overlooked something."

"Are you sure these are the correct runes for the spell?" Snape asked, examining the talisman we'd created that was _supposed_ to locate Horcruxes.

"_Yes_. I wrote them the _exact_ way they were in the book. It should work!"

"But it doesn't."

"Thank you, Captain Obvious." I muttered, throwing my hands up in frustration. "I don't see why it doesn't work."

"Maybe it does," offered an airy voice from hall.

I whirled around to see Luna standing just outside the door, holding what suspiciously looked like a thestral-hair bracelet. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe," she said, stepping into the room and sitting in the nearest chair, "maybe there's a Horcrux in the house somewhere. The Blacks _were_ known to be big Voldemort supporters. Maybe they left you a present?"

I stared at her, open mouthed. "That honestly never occurred to me."

"A lot of things wouldn't occur to you, Harry; you've got nargles nesting in your hair. I'd be a little slow-witted if I had them too."

"I've got… _what_?"

"Nargles, in your hair. That's why it won't lay flat – they like to keep their nests a bit messy, I'm afraid. Good luck with your search." She smiled, leaving to go do only Merlin knows what.

"That girl is quite odd." Snape mused. "Brilliant, but very _odd_."

"Tell me about it. And what the heck is a nargle?"

Xxx

The morning of August 30th rolled dawned, and we still had not progressed in our search.

"The theory made sense at first." I began, reclining fireside with Luna in the library. "But it seems you were wrong, Luna."

She paused in her knitting to look at up at from the floor. "How so?"

"The talisman is wonky at best. It only causes Snape to appear in whatever room I happen to be in. We think my scar is interfering."

"Hmm…" Luna responded, returning to her knitting, "Maybe it's not your scar."

I rubbed my eyes tiredly. "What do you mean?"

"You didn't die when the Killing Curse hit you… you can feel all of Voldemort's emotions… sometimes you can even see into his mind."

"Yeah…" I replied, unable to follow her train of thought.

"Well… what if the talisman _does_ work, but it only takes you to the _closest_ Horcrux." She said, more to herself than to me.

"Luna…" I said slowly, finally understanding and not liking it at all.

"What if," she continued, "what if _you_ were a Horcrux?"

Xxx

"She thinks _you're_ a Horcrux?" Snape said stroking his non-existent beard, "Interesting."

"No!" I fumed, "_Not_ interesting! If I'm a Horcrux, then that means that for me to kill Voldemort, I'd have to commit suicide! It's ludicrous!"

"Harry…"

"No! I'm The-Boy-Who-Lived! The Chosen One! _The one with the power to Vanquish the Dark Lord_! I can't be a _Horcrux_! It negates the entire Prophecy! How can I kill him if I'm dead myself? Tell me that!"

Silence. It seemed that for once, I had actually rendered Snape speechless. Not that I was in the mood to gloat. After a while, Severus seemed to come up with a suitable solution.

"We could always turn you."

It was my turn to stare stupidly.

"_Turn_ me? _Turn_ me? _Me_?" I shook my head, bemusedly. "You must be out of your ever-loving mind. I'm not sacrificing my love of Quidditch and sunshine just so I can take Voldemort down a peg or two."

"_Harry_," Snape sighed, "be reasonable."

"No. I won't do it. What's the point of defeating him if I can't even enjoy my life after he's dead? There has to be another way."

"You could perform an exorcism," came a familiar voice.

"Hello Luna." I sighed. "I somehow doubt that would work."

"It might."

"I'm not possessed, Luna."

She looked thoughtful. "Oh. There is that, I suppose."

"Ms. Lovegood's idea is not without merit, Harry." Snape mused. "All we need to do is remove the bit of Voldemort's soul from your body. While an exorcism might not work, perhaps a similar sort of ritual could be applied? A banishment perhaps?"

"Like you would do to a poltergeist!" Luna exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight.

I nodded. "Let's try it."

"Are you sure?" Snape asked, "It might not even work."

"At this point I'm willing to try anything."

"A banishment it is!" Luna exclaimed, hopping up from her seat. "I'll go get the salt!"


	30. Ch 29: Accomplishments and Advice

**Chapter 29: Accomplishments and Advice**

If anyone tells you that having a sliver of someone else's leech of a soul ripped out of your body doesn't hurt, slap them. Hard. I laid on the cold stone floor of the kitchen sweating, half nude, and trembling like I'd just been tortured into insanity and back again by the Cruciatus curse.

"Professor?" I gasped, trying to sit up and only succeeding in rolling over, "Did it work?"

"When you defeated Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets, did a phantom image of him come out?"

"Yes."

"Then it worked."

"Good." I sighed and closed my eyes. "I feel like shit."

Someone giggled. "You look like shit, Harry."

"Shut up Luna."

She knelt next to me and nudged me with a glass of water. "Here."

I drained the glass without taking a breath. "Thanks."

"Come on." Snape said, hauling me up by the arm, "Let's get you cleaned up. The train leaves tomorrow."

"Yay!" Luna exclaimed. "Back to Hogwarts, where I can feed the thesterals!" She promptly bounced out of the room, presumably to pack.

"What was she doing here again?" I asked as Snape hauled me up the stairs to Sirius' old room.

"She was with her father in Hogsmead during the attack. She's been here ever since." He replied, pushing the door open.

"Her father wouldn't stay?"

"He didn't want to be away from his newspaper. Left just as soon as Poppy let him."

"And he just left Luna?" I slumped down onto the bed. "That sucks."

"He didn't want to leave her at first, but I talked him into it. She's one of the 'Ministry Six' – that makes her a target. She's safer here until school starts back."

"Oh. Will you be taking the train with us, sir?"

Snape paused at the door. "I'm on the Advance Guard, this time, so yes, I'll be on the train."

I nodded. "Can I ask you something?"

"More that you already have?" Snape said, sitting on the bed, "I suppose."

"I asked Dumbledore if I could bring a portrait of my parents back to Hogwarts with me. He said no."

"And your question is _why_ did he say no?"

"Yeah, I mean… I know Malfoy has a portrait of his grandparents in his dorm, so why can't I have my family with me?"

"Hmm…" Snape stroked his five o'clock shadow. "Perhaps he doesn't want them to influence you. You weren't supposed to be left with the Dursley's you know."

"Yeah, they told me."

"Do you want my advice?"

"Sure." I replied, lying back on the bed. "Yours is as good as any."

"Bring it anyway. If he asks, tell him he owes you for the Basilisk."

I stared at Snape, dumbfounded. "You're serious?"

He smirked at me. "As serious as a heart attack."


	31. Ch 30: Contraband

**Chapter 30: Contraband**

"Mr. Potter, the Headmaster would like to see you in his office after class."

I sighed. _I've only been back for two days! I can't be in trouble already!_ "Yes, Professor."

I watched solemnly as McGonagall retreated to the front of the class and began the lesson. _Why can't we learn the Animagus transformation? That would be much more useful than learning to turn dust bunnies into spoons._

"Mr. Potter, if I could have your attention?"

I sighed. "Sorry Professor."

Xxx

"Lemon Drops."

The statue just stared at me. _Bloody fucking Dumbledore! I've been standing here for __**ten minutes**_

"Blood Pops."

"Sugar Quills."

"Ice Mice."

Nothing, nothing, and more nothing.

"Cockroach Clusters! Chocolate Frogs! Ginger Snaps! "

The statue smirked.

"Aaarrg!" I scream in frustration. "Bloody fucking… Gummy Worms!"

The statue moved.

"Which was it – the bloody fucking, or the gummy worms?"

"Five points from Gryffindor for vulgarity unbecoming a student, Mr. Potter."

I whirled around to face Snape with a particularly nasty retort on my tongue, and then decided that it wasn't worth a detention. Not this early in the year at least.

"Sorry, Professor. I'll watch my language from now on."

"See that you do." He replied, gliding off down the hall to torment some other unsuspecting student.

"Bloody Snape and Dumbledore…" I muttered, stomping up the spiral staircase and knocking on the heavy wooden door.

"Come in."

_And you were in here the whole time! Why was I playing' Guess That Sweet' if you were here! You could have just opened the door!_

I took a deep breath and reigned in my temper. "You wanted to see, Professor?"

"Yes. Have a seat." I sat. "Lemon drop?"

"No thank you."

"Ah well, I shall have one."

We sat in silence as he finished his candy. Finally I couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"I see you fixed up your office. It looks… the same."

"Yes." Dumbledore leaned forward and peered at me over his half-moon spectacles. "It has come to my attention that you are in possession of a bit of… contraband. Do you know of what I am speaking?"

"No sir." I said honestly. I had a lot of contraband in my possession – the Marauder's Map and Plunderer's Parchment being just the tip of the iceberg.

"No? You are not aware of the portrait you have hanging in your room?"

"I wasn't aware that we weren't allowed to decorate our rooms, sir."

"You are allowed to decorate your rooms anyway you wish, just so long as you stay within the guidelines."

"I wasn't aware that there _were_ guidelines, Professor. Rumor has it that a group of Hufflepuffs have decorated their room with fairy lights. Are family portrait any less acceptable?"

"I told you that you couldn't bring it, Harry."

"Malfoy has one."

"Malfoy's circumstances are… special."

"Not more 'special' that defeating a Basilisk."

Dumbledore sighed. "Harry, you cannot have a portrait of your family in your dorm room."

"Why not? Because they might tell me about how their will _explicitly_ states that I should _never_ be left with the Dursley's?"

"Harry…"

"I wonder what Rita Skeeter would say if she found aout that you violated my parent's will, '_for the greater good'_?"

Dumbledore blanched. "So you finally read _Hogwarts, a History_?"

"No, I read _Dark Times and Darker Arts_. Tell me Professor, how many Horcruxes have _you_ made?"

"I never!"

"Like hell you didn't!" I yelled, standing fast enough to topple my chair. "You had that _mysterious_ falling-out with your brother after your sister's _even more_ mysterious death!"

"I _never_ made a Horcrux, Harry. And if I did do something so _heinous_ as murder my own sister, do you really think that I would be _fool_ enough to put part of my soul in something that could be destroyed?"

"Of course not. You'd put it in something indestructible and everlasting, something you could keep with you at all times, something that no one would suspect."

"Nothing lasts forever, Harry."

I sneered. "Fawkes will last forever, Headmaster."


	32. Ch 31: Confrontations

**A/N:** I really liked this chapter. The story was getting a little _too _serious, so I threw in some humor. Hope you like it too!

**Chapter 31: Confrontations**

The Headmaster stared at me in shock.

"What, you think I wouldn't have figured it out?" I righted my chair and sat, making myself comfortable. "After all that reading I did on Horcruxes, how could I not? I noticed that curse on your hand. It's not visible now – you keep it hidden so no one will see and ask questions – but I saw it that day there was an attack on Hogsmead. You helped Rein up and shook her hand, and that's when I saw it. I didn't pay much attention to it then, but after reading _Volta de Morte_, I remembered and realized that a wound like that could only be made by trying – and failing – to destroy a Horcrux."

The twinkle was gone from his eyes now. "You're pretty clever, for a Potter. And here I was thinking that it was just that Granger girl carrying you through your classes. Under any other circumstances, I'd be proud. Fawkes!"

"You really want to do that? Call him here, where I can dispose of him?"

Dumbledore smiled at me. "I have others. And I can always make a new one, if need be."

"Others? You mean like the Sword of Gryffindor?" I chuckled, amused. "That one has already been taken care of, albeit I didn't realize I'd done it at the time."

"Really?" He popped a sweet into his mouth. "What leads you to believe that?"

"Oh nothing… I just used it to kill a basilisk, and accidentally impregnated it with poisonous venom."

Dumbledore blanched. "A… basilisk?"

"In second year -- Surely you remember? The monster in the Chamber was a basilisk. I saved Ginny Weasley from it."

"And that's what you plan on doing to Fawkes? It won't work, you know. His body can neutralize poison, you realize?"

"Who said anything about using basilisk venom? It won't kill Fawkes, only cause him to rebirth. I'm not stupid, you know."

He only inclined his head, and we sat in a tense silence for a few moments.

"I'm not removing the portrait." I said after a while.

"Yes you will." He said it so matter of factly that it almost seemed as if I'd agreed with him without realizing it.

"I highly doubt that." I brushed some imaginary lint off my uniform shirt. "Tell me the truth about something. Did you set up my parents?"

Silence.

"Should I take that as a yes?"

He sighed. "It was for the greater good."

"Uh huh. So… you set my parents up--"

"You were the better candidate--"

"Let Sirius be carted off to jail--"

"He wasn't in a fit state to raise a child--"

"And placed me with the Dursleys--"

"Your only living relatives--"

"Who were _highly_ abusive--"

"I didn't--"

"In direct violation of my parent's will."

He sighed, but remained quiet.

"I see you have nothing to say to that."

After several moments, he finally met my eyes. "It was necessary to preserve the greater good."

I rolled my eyes. "Uh huh, sure it was. And me being raised by an aunt and uncle who abhor magic and everything to do with it factored into your plan how?"

"I knew Tom wasn't dead, and you would have been no use to me – to the cause – if you had turned out like Mr. Malfoy had."

"So instead you let me be abused, and on good days, neglected? You do realize that you've only encouraged me to turn out like Voldemort? Or at the very best, Snape?"

"Snape is on my side. The Light's side, Harry." He said, petting that damnable bird.

"_Snape_ is on no one's side but his own." I said, standing. "And it's Mr. Potter to you."

"Put that portrait back where you got it, or I'll dispose of it permanently."

"Sure you will." I turned at the door to face him. "Keep your pet close, old man." I said, indicating Fawkes.

"Don't force me to make good on my threat, Mr. Potter."

I smirked. "Don't make me make good on _mine_." I said, taking my leave.

Xxx

That night, a strange noise woke me from my sleep. I laid awake, listening to the breathing pattern of someone who was _not_ one of my roommates. A scuffling sound told me that whoever it was trying to remove my family portrait from the wall. I smiled.

"I know you're there, Headmaster. It won't work. Why don't you just go back to your office and suck on your lemon drops?"

"You can't keep this here, Harry."

"It's Mr. Potter to you, and yes I can – I've already cleared it with McGonagall and the Board."

"I can veto them. My word is law."

I snorted. "Tell _that_ to Lucius Malfoy."

He was quiet, and the silence was broken only by Neville's snores and the occasional grunt as Dumbledore repeatedly tried (and failed) to remove the portrait.

"What did you use to put this up?" The old coot asked angrily.

"Shh... you'll wake up Ronald." I whispered, mocking him.

"Tell me what spell you used!"

"Who said I used a _spell_? I could have used a potion…"

"You impertinent--"

"You're one to talk. Don't you have something better to do than sneak around my dorm in the dead of night like some dirty old pervert? It's really disconcerting."

"You tell me what you used to put this up, or I'll take a hundred points from Gryffindor!"

"Go ahead; give me another reason to complain to the Board of Governors. At this rate, you'll be out by Halloween."

He growled angrily. I smiled to myself in the dark.

"I'm not telling you what I used to stick the portrait to the wall, so you might as well go back to you office, and order yourself some more lemon drops."

"One hundred points from Gryffindor it is."

"What is it with you and those lemon drops anyway? You're always sucking on them--" he sputtered indignantly "—and offering them to others to suck on. You know what _I_ think? _I_ think you just want to watch people suck on the damned things. I'll bet everything you suck on one, you're imagining it's your old lover's cock. Don't you? You're fantasizing that you're sucking off old Grindewauld."

"I never!"

"And when you see other people sucking on them, you imagine that they're sucking off _you_. Mmm, hmm. I know how _you_ are. Wait 'til Rita Skeeter gets wind of _that_ little tidbit of information. I can see the front-page headlines now: "_Albus Dumbledore Fantasizing About Former Dark Lord! Using Lemon Drops and Minors to Aid His Fantasies!_"

"You… you…!"

"Why don't you just leave? I'll keep on like this if you stick around."

He drew in one labored breath after another, as though he was trying to control his temper.

"You know, now that I think of it, that headline really isn't her style. She'd say something more like _"Boy-Who-Lived Accosted by Headmaster in Gryffindor Tower! Dumbledore Arrested for Sexual Misconduct!"_ What do you think?"

The only answer was footsteps crossing the floor and the door closing quietly. I smiled in satisfaction.

"Harry Potter – one; Albus Dumbledore – zero."


	33. Ch 32: Potions

**A/N:** I've spoiled you thus far, with all the reviews for this month (not really, but let's say I did), so the next chapter I write will be for my other HP story, _Rise of the Serpent_. It's not fair of me to neglect my other readers. Then I'll update _Pro Seditio _(Pirates of the Caribbean, in case you were wondering), then this again. I'll try to keep up the cycle, but feel free to drop me a line if I don't get one up by the end of the first week of December. Read and Review people!

**FYI:** I looked up an actual calendar for the days of the week, and the calendar week begins on Monday in the UK and ends on Sunday. I'm American, so I had to make sure.

**Chapter 32: Potions**

The Tuesday edition of _The Daily Prophet_ was interesting only because it featured a Quidditch column (called "The Tuesday Snitch") written by Lee Jordan.

"The Vultures won _again_ this Sunday." Ron said, tossing me the paper.

"Who were they playing?" I asked, taking a bite of toast.

"The Cannons." came the sullen response.

Dean snorted. "Of course they won against the _Cannons_! They're the worst team in the league! It's a wonder they still let them play!"

"Shut it." Ron mumbled, his ears turning red.

"Leave off you guys, you know how he is about the Cannons. Hey," I said, nicking some of Seamus' bacon, "Ron, you think Victor would get us tickets to the cup if they went all the way?"

He only shrugged mouth full of bangers and hash. "Dunno. Might."

"I'll write him. Maybe Rein could come too."

"Who's Rein?" Seamus asked, missing his mouth and getting jam all over himself.

"Rein is Harry's girlfriend." Neville filled in. "She's actually rather pretty. Like Angelina…"

Conversation on our end of the table stopped as we all gawked at Neville.

"What?"

Xxx

"Wands away." Snape said as he strode into the dank Potions lab. "Mr. Boot, stop tormenting that arachnid and _pay attention_. I will not have your inability to focus on the task at hand set my classroom ablaze."

Arriving at the front of the classroom, he turned around and fixed Terry (who until that moment had been trying to transfigure each of the spider's legs into something different) with his piercing glare.

"Despite what many of you believe, this is _not_ a class to be taken lightly. You are all here, and so one would assume that you are the best, as I only accept into my NEWT level classes, _the best_. You _will_ complete all work assigned in a neat and timely manner, you _will_ show the proper respect for myself and the property of both the school and you peers, and you _will not_, for any reason, attempt to ingest, sell, or administer any potion that you or your peers make in this lab. The potions you will be working with are both volatile and complex, and _any_ distractions for _any_ reasons will not be tolerated. Have I made myself clear?"

There was only silence to greet his words. "If you don't like my class," he continued silkily, you can just drop out. Understood?"

Only silence met his words. _This class must really be difficult if he's offering to let us drop it._ I mused.

"Professor?"

I sighed. _Leave it to Granger to ask questions._

"_Yes_, Miss Granger? You wish to drop?" he answered as he gestured today's agenda onto the board.

"No, sir. It's just that… this class is for advanced potion-makers."

"_Yes_." He replied, irritated. "Your point?"

"Well.." here she hesitated, be it due to nerves or for dramatic effect, who knows. "If this class is for those who are advanced, then why is Harry in here? Surely he didn't receive an 'O' on his Potions OWLS?"

Somewhere behind me to the left I could hear Malfoy and his croons laughing. _That… the __**nerve**__ of her!_

Snape, for all it was worth, feigned surprise. "What? Doth mine ears deceive me?" he mimicked, placing his hand on his chest for added flair, "Why lads, mark it on the calendar: Hermione granger does _not_ know everything!"

Raucous laughter met my ears as the class erupted in gaiety.

"It is not my habit," he continued, raising his voice to be heard above the noise, "to disclose the OWL scores of my pupils, Miss Granger. _However_, to rectify your misinformed opinion, I shall, this once, betray my policy. Mr. Potter does indeed belong in this classroom. Not only did he receive an Outstanding on both his Potions practical _and_ theory, he received the second-highest score in all of Hogwarts."

The laughter had tapered off during his speech, and was now replaced by quiet whispers of disbelief. _You'd think they thought me an idiot._

"What?" came Hermione's whispered response. The class quieted. Well, _most_ of the class.

"Oh ho ho!" Malfoy jeered. "I think Granger's angry. Could it be that she thought that _she_ was the smartest in the room? Well, I'm not one for bragging, but if _Potter's_ second and _I'm_ first, then _she_ would have to be third, at the very highest."

My eyes widened. _I beat out Hermione? Awesome! Wait until I tell Ron!"_

"Quiet down." Snape said, tapping his desk with his wand. "Mr. Malfoy, congratulations on your accomplishment. I award Slytherin House twenty-five points on your behalf. Miss Granger… please cease opening your mouth, lest you become more familiar with the taste of your foot than you are presently. Everyone else, the list for today's refresher potions are on the board. The first five are due at the end of class – begin."

Xxx

"And then Malfoy… Malfoy says that if I'm second and he's first'--"

"Wait Harry, slow down…" Ron said, leaning on my shoulder as his own shook in mirth. "I can hardly breathe what I'm laughing so much."

We entered the common room and flopped onto the couch, Dean, Seamus, and Neville not far behind.

"So," Nev said, leaning forward in his chair, "Malfoy said…"

"So he says," I continued, trying not to laugh, "if he's first and I'm second, then Hermione must would have to be third, _at best_! Mate I tell you, she was _furious_!And the _look_ on her _face_!"

"What did Snape say?" Seamus asked, clutching his sides. "I'll bet he said something positively _vicious_!"

"He said, he told her that she should 'cease opening her mouth lest she become more familiar with the taste of her foot'!"

We were all doubled over in laughter with tears running down our faces when the portrait hole opened to admit Granger.

"Hey Hermione!" Seamus yelled, catching the attention of the entire room. "Harry was just telling us about Snape's class."

"Yeah," Dean added, "so tell us – how's your foot taste?"

Granger turned red and stalked up the stairs to the girl's dormitory.

"Uh oh," Neville said in a staged whisper, "I think she's angry."

"Who cares?" Ron said, laughing. "She's only third place!


	34. Ch 33: Warnings

**A/N: **For all of you think that I'm writing off Hermione, I assure that no matter how much I despise her character that is not the case. There's something that you're not seeing going on here, and no, I won't tell you what it is. You'll just have to wait and find out.

Happy Holidays!

**Dedication:** I haven't done one of these since Remorseful Brooding, but here it is: to Muzai and Yuuzai, may humble pie live forever.

**Chapter 33: Warnings**

"I can't believe she really _said_ that." Neville said, shaking his head on the way to Defense.

"I know." I replied. "Even _Malfoy_ thought it was low."

"Hey!" Ron exclaimed as Granger barreled past him, not even bothering to excuse herself. "Bloody know-it-all. No wonder she hasn't got any friends."

I laughed. "I wonder if there's a troll in the dungeons."

"_What_?" Seamus asked, completely lost. "Why would there be a troll in the dungeons?"

"It's a long story…"

**Xxx**

The door slammed open, and for a moment I half-expected Snape to come swooping in. I must not have been the only one thinking that though, because the entire class got quiet.

"It's nice to see I haven't lost my touch."

Everyone (myself included) turned from the door to the desk in the front of the room. There stood one of the oddest-looking professors that I'd ever seen in my life. The figure before us was completely androgynous, with pale skin, red-violet eyes, and silvery-white hair and eyebrows. He (or was it a she?) was wearing a monocle and dressed in a long sand-colored robe that hung open and looked like something more suitable for a desert safari than a classroom.

"Is that a _t-shirt_?" I asked Dean.

"Can't really tell from here, but it sure looks like it to me mate."

"If I could have your attention? I am Professor Yali Garafena, and I will be teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts this year. As everyone present is a NEWT level student, I expect your complete attention, respect, and cooperation for the duration of my class. You may lower your hand, Ms… Granger, I believe? I will not be answering any questions at this moment. I am the instructor, and I intend to teach." He (or she) smiled at us, baring small, sharp fangs in the process.

Ron recoiled. "It's a _vampire_!" he yelped.

I kicked him under the table. "She can _hear_ you, you idiot."

"Yes, I can. And no, Mr. Weasley, I am _not_ a vampire – I simply have very sharp canines. Any more questions before we begin?"

"Are you a man or a woman?" Seamus yelled from the back of the classroom before anyone could stop him.

"Seamus!" Dean hissed.

"What? If he's a she, I'd do her." Parvati slapped him upside the head with a scroll.

"That is _so_ disrespectful. _Honestly_ Seamus, if I hadn't met your mum, I'd think you'd been _raised_ that way."

"Your classmate is correct, Mr. Finnegan. I will be taking ten points from Gryffindor for your lack of decorum. Now if you all are _quite_ finished, I would appreciate it if you would turn to page two-hundred and ten in your text. Ironically, today we will, indeed, be discussing vampires."

**Xxx**

"Garafena is bloody _brilliant_!" Dean exclaimed. "The best yet, I'd say."

"I still want to know if he's a man or a woman."

"_Seamus_." We chorused, exasperated.

"Even if he _is_ a she," I said, leading the way to Charms, "There's no way you're getting lucky."

"Of course I will," Seamus replied, sticking out his chest, "no woman can resist the old Finnegan charm."

**Xxx**

"Hi Harry. How's the nargles?" Luna asked at dinner.

"Hi Luna, and there erm… better. Loads better." I replied, still wondering what nargles were.

"That's good to hear, can I have a word with you?" she asked, twisting a blonde lock around her finger.

"Sure." I followed her into the corridor. "What's up?"

"I think you may have some trouble on your hands." She said her tone unusually sharp and business-like.

"What do you mean?" Somehow, I knew that whatever it was would _not_ bode well.

"Well… I happened to overhear Parvati telling Padma that _Hermione_ has been acting a little weird lately…" Her voice trailed off, and she seems a bit unsure of herself.

"How do you mean? As far as I can tell, she's been her ususal, know-it-all self." I asked, confused.

"_Parvati_ said that she's acting... odd. I'm not sure all that's been going on, but apparently she's not been herself lately. They say she's been really… vicious. Mean. Like she's been possessed by Bellatrix or something…"

"_What_?" I stared at Luna in disbelief. "You don't think she's under the Imperious, do you?"

Luna fixed me with her unblinking stare. "Who knows? There's really no way to prove it if she is, now is there? Just in case, you'd better watch your back Harry – I know I would if I were you."


	35. Ch 34: Insight

**A/N:** Hermione bashing in this chapter. You have been warned. Also, this one is kinda short… I didn't want to add on at the end because it didn't really flow. I hope you enjoy anyway! Review!

**Chapter 34: Insight**

Luna's words echoed in my head for the rest of the day. True, Hermione _had_ been acting odd, but until Luna mentioned it, I'd just written it off as typical girl behavior. I mean, it's not like _I_ had any experience with that sort of thing. _I'd always wondered what it would be like if Hermione wasn't my friend. I guess now I know._

The rest of the day was spent sneaking covert looks over Granger's way to see if I could pick out any unusual behavior. While there wasn't anything _too_ noticeable, I had to admit, she was acting pretty strange. It wasn't like Hermione Granger to glare at anyone who's last name wasn't Malfoy, but there she was sending serious daggers in Lavender's direction. _Hmmm… suspicious._

"Hey, Granger." I said, sitting next to her on the couch, "You didn't pick up any stray diaries did you?"

She glared at me and stormed away.

"Does that mean 'no'?" I called after her.

I heard a door slam somewhere.

"Well… so much for that idea."

Lavender bounced over and sat down next to me. "I thought she'd _never_ leave! What's with her, anyway?"

"I don't know." I answered truthfully, "I was going to ask you the same thing. Has she been like that since the feast?"

"You mean short-tempered, stuck-up, and self-righteous?"

"Umm…"

"She's been like that since _first year_ Harry, where've you been?"

"Has she?" I wondered, more to myself than to Lavender.

"You really haven't noticed?" she replied, amazed. "Wow. Harry, Hermione Granger is the single most stuck-up, condescending, holier-than-thou prat in the _entire_ school. It's worse than Malfoy the way she looks down her nose at all of us, clinging to her books like they're the only things worthy of her attention. She thinks she's _so_ much better than the rest of us! She's always puffing out her chest and sticking her hand in the air when one of the professors asks a question! And Merlin _forbid_ that they call on someone else – she gets all offended and shoots off the answer before anyone else can say anything!"

"Granger… she's just… really enthusiastic about learning, that's all." I said in her defense.

"She's an attention whore and you know it. She's like a puppy– a pat on the head and a 'good Hermione' will make her day, and she can't stand it when people pay more attention to someone else. That's why she doesn't like Malfoy – he doesn't think she's worthy of anything except maybe his contempt. It's why she doesn't like Ron; it's why she doesn't like _you_. Neither of you are particularly impressed with a girl that can't do anything except recite verbatim from a textbook."

"Well… who would be? It's not that hard – anyone could do it."

"_Exactly_. Anyone _could_ do it. But the teachers just shower her with recognition and praise for doing what anyone could do, and she expects the rest of us to do the same. She is _so infuriating_!"

"Who is?" Neville asked, settling down on the other side of me.

"Hermione Granger, that's who!" Lavender answered.

"Yeah, she _is_ pretty annoying." He agreed, nodding, "But I bet you'd be annoying too if you didn't have anything but books to keep you company."

"That's her fault. We invite her to hang out with us and she just looks down her nose and says that she's got better things to do. There's only so many times a person will take 'no' for an answer before they just give up."

I sighed. "True… maybe she should have gone to Ravenclaw. She'd probably have a better time there."

"She was supposed to. She talked the Hat out of it."

I stared at Lavender. "Seriously?"

She rolled her eyes. "You didn't really think that she _belonged_ here, did you? She _asked_ to be sorted into Gryffindor."

"Why?" Neville asked, just as confused as I was.

"Because she wanted to be the girlfriend of the Boy-Who-Lived, that's why. Clearly things didn't go the way she planned."

"I thought she liked Ron…" I mused.

"If she does she'd better watch out – I hear Lovegood's not one you want to cross."

We found out the next day how right Lavender was.


	36. Ch 35: Visitation

**Chapter 35: Visitation**

Wednesday's History of Magic class was decidedly… odd. Everyone was whispering to one another excitedly, and I seemed to be one of the few who were out of the loop.

"What's going on?" I asked, surveying the commotion all around me.

"You mean you don't know?" Neville asked, incredulously.

"Know what?"

"Luna and Hermione got into a fight. It was wicked! There were hexes and fists flying every which-way… and Seamus said Luna tried to turn Hermione into a toad!"

I stared at Neville in disbelief. "When? Where was I at during all of this?"

"Arithmancy."

I threw up my hands in frustration. "Why do I always miss the good stuff? The _one_ time I decided to be an over-achiever, something worth watching happens!"

Neville laughed. "Rotten for you mate."

"Yeah…" I sighed in mock-disappointment. "So… did anyone's shirt get ripped off?"

**Xxx**

I decided during History of Magic that I'd visit Luna in the infirmary just as soon as Binns stopped droning on about the goblin rebellion – _again_. _Does the man know nothing else?_ I wondered, counting down the minutes until the end of class. _The Rebellion is all he's talked about for the past six years!_ Finally, after nearly gouging my eyes out in boredom, the bell signaling the end of the period rang.

"Hey Ron," I said, catching him and Neville on the way out, "I'm going to visit Luna. Did you want to come?"

Ron stared at me like I was an idiot.

"What?" I asked, confused.

Neville laughed. "Of _course_ he wants to go see Luna! They _are_ dating aren't they?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's always polite to _ask_ instead of just assuming."

"Sure Harry, sure."

**xxx**

After a brief talk with Luna (she asked about nargles – _again_) I decided to pay Hermione Granger a visit. _After all,_ I argued, _we were friends, once, and it's not like anyone __**else**__ is going to stop in an wish her well. She hasn't got any friends to speak of._

"Hey." I said, approaching the bed-ridden figure cautiously. "I heard about what happened. Are you alright?"

The glare I received was enough to reduce a glacier into a glass of water. "What are you doing here, Potter?"

"I… have a free period after Binns. I heard you were in the Hospital wing, and decided to see if you were alright…"

"A likely story." She spat angrily. "After all, every Quidditch jock cares about third place know-it-alls like me!"

I sighed and stared guiltily at the floor. "I… Look Hermione, I know I haven't really been much of a friend to you lately. You… It was wrong of me to treat you like that, and I'm sorry. I don't… I'm sorry." I whispered sincerely. "It wasn't funny and it wasn't the kind of thing a friend would do, and I'm ashamed that I acted like I did, ok?"

She glared at me for a few seconds before turning her back to me.

"Hermione? Do you…" I sighed, feeling even guiltier. "I'll just go… feel better, ok?" I set a Chocolate Frog on the table beside her. "I _am_ sorry, Hermione."

**Xxx**

"So, Potter," Malfoy jeered, "I heard you went to make up with your mudblood girlfriend today. Tell me, is snogging her as disgusting as it sounds?"

I stared at him. _How did he…?_ I shook my head. "First: Although I do _have_ a girlfriend, Hermione Granger isn't her. My girlfriend goes to Beauxbatons. Second: I would never snog Hermione – she's not my type. And _third_: If you're trying to make me angry, you'll have to do better than that. I'm a new man these days, and I'm determined not to let prats like you get to me."

Draco glared at me in what I'm sure he thought was an intimidating way. I turned to Ron. "Do you smell something?" I asked innocently.

"No…" he responded. "Why? Do you?"

"No, but Malfoy's got this look on his face like something absolutely _reeks_."

"Does he?" Ron said, looking over at him. "I just thought he was _born_ that ugly."

"_Oh_," I murmured thoughtfully. "Is that it then? Poor bloke – no wonder he can't do better than Parkinson."

"You don't actually feel _sorry_ for him, do you?" Ron inquired as we strode into the Great Hall.

"Of course I do! Have you _seen_ Pansy? She looks like pug with hair!"


	37. Ch 36: Uncanny Offers

**A/N:** Sorry it took so long. Enjoy!

**Chapter 36: Uncanny Offers**

"So Potter," Malfoy taunted during breakfast, "I heard that everything isn't all sunshine and daisies at home."

I dropped my fork in surprise. _How does he… who's __**telling**__ him this?_

Malfoy just smirked. "Ah, I guess not. Bit of a sore spot for you, is it? Well, that filthy little _mudblood_ that you used to hang out with spilled the beans. I know all about your _cupboard_." He sneered. "I really can't say I'm surprised. _Muggles_. Disgusting, barbaric cretins the lot of them. One must wonder how you survived living with them so long. But then again, you are the _Chosen One_. But you know, there's one thing I don't understand."

"And what's that?" I asked through clenched teeth.

He looked at me, a curious look on his face. "Why do you insist on fighting for a horde of barbarians that would either abuse you, or stand by and allow _others_ to abuse you? What do you owe them? What do you owe Muggle-lovers like Dumbledore? He's only using you, you know. I know all about his political platform from the Grindewauld Wars. '_For the greater good'_. I'll bet the only reason he put you with those _Muggles_ was so he could make you into his little poster-boy. Don't you? I mean after-all, what kind of Headmaster would let his favorite pupil fight a _Basilisk_ at twelve?"

I glared at him, refusing to say anything.

"What – little Potty's got nothing to say? Ah well…" Malfoy leaned over towards me and dropped his voice to a whisper. "It's not too late to change sides, you know. We could be allies. I mean, let's face it – Granger isn't coming back to you anytime soon, and Weasley's loyalty is questionable at best. Remember fourth year? It's just a matter of time before he betrays you for something you can't control once again. Wouldn't you rather be on the winning side?"

"He killed my parents." I hissed. "I would _never_ join him."

"Who said anything about the Dark Lord?"

My eyes snapped to his face, searching it for any sign of deception. "You wouldn't really--"

"Shh." He said, standing. "Think about it Potter." I just stared at his retreating form in confused wonderment.

"What the bloody hell…?"

**Xxx**

The rest of the day was spent splitting my concentration between classes and Malfoy's proposal. _He might be my enemy, but I __**am**__ curios…_ I admitted to myself during Charms. _The thing is, how do I know it's not a trap? And where is he getting information about my life from?_ _That_ question was driving my crazy. _How could he know all these things about me? The only people I've told about my home life are the Weasleys and Hermione. _

I stopped in the middle of the hallway and smacked myself upside my head, much to the bewilderment of the passerby.

"Hermione!" I said, feeling like every bit the dunderhead that Snape has always accused me of being.

"What about her?" Ron asked.

"Malfoy knows all this personal stuff about me. I'll bet _Hermione's_ his source. Who else would divulge information about my life at the Dursley's?"

"That sneaky, backstabbing little--"

"Mr. Weasley! I suggest you think twice about finishing that sentence, because _I_ will not think twice about giving you a detention."

"Sorry Professor McGonagall."

"Don't let me catch you using such inappropriate language again." She said, sweeping off down the hallway.

"Do you really think it's Hermione who told?" Ron asked, pulling a face behind McGonagall's retreating back.

"Who else would it be?"

"Dunno." Ron shrugged. "What about Ginny? She might still be sore about what happened this summer."

"Maybe…" I mused more to myself than Ron. "I'll ask Luna – she's good at things like this."

He nodded. "She is pretty smart; maybe she'll se something we missed."


	38. Ch 37: Connecting the Dots

**A/N:** Sorry for the long wait.

**Chapter 37: Connecting the Dots**

"Luna, can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Sure Harry." She replied, not at all surprised to see me. "Follow me, I know just the place."

I followed Luna from the Great Hall and after several minutes of what seemed like aimless wandering, we stopped.

"Luna, I know a place if you--"

"Shh." She tilted her head to one side as if listening. "I know you're there, Ronald."

"Bloody hell!" Came the reply as the air shimmered the revealed Ron. "How did you know that? How does she always _know_?"

Luna only rolled her eyes. "I'm not in Ravenclaw for nothing you know."

I shook my head, a length of silvery cloth catching my eye. "Is that – is that my cloak?"

Ron nodded and shoved it into my hands. "Keep your knickers on Harry, I was going to put it back."

"You were spying on me?"

"No," Luna cut in, "He was spying on Hermione."

"Exactly. Besides, it's not like you don't have another one."

I stared at him. "That's beside the point, Ron! You should have asked!"

"I was going to, but you'd already left for dinner!"

"I--"

"If you two are _quite_ finished," Luna interrupted loudly, "I'd like to get a move on. I have an Astronomy test this evening, and I'd like to be prepared for it."

I shrugged and Ron muttered a half-hearted 'sorry', and we were on our way again. After countless more minutes, Luna stopped in the middle of a deserted corridor.

"Luna," I asked as she preened in a mirror, "we've been walking about for _hours_ it seems. Are you _sure_ you know where you're going?"

"Of course." She replied. "We're going right here."

"Here?" I complained. "How in the bloody hell is the middle of the hallway a private place to talk about things?"

She finally stopped arranging her hair an turned to me. "Behind the mirror, you dunce. Honestly, for someone in the possession of the Marauder's Map, you're hopeless at spotting a secret passage. Why _else_ would there be a mirror hanging in an unused corridor?"

I felt my cheeks heat in embarrassment. "Oh."

She grinned at me. "Eloquent as ever, I see."

"So how do we get in?" Ron asked, pulling one side of the mirror off the wall and looking behind it.

Luna slapped Ron's arm and replaced the mirror. "You don't walk _behind_ it, you walk _through_ it. Like this." To illustrate her point, she walked right up to the mirror and, lifting the hem of her robes, stepped right through it as though it wasn't there.

"Wicked." Ron exclaimed before following her. I shook my head and followed.

Once we were all situated on the various boulders (this was one of the ones that had caved-in) Luna turned her full attention to me.

"What did you want to talk about?" She asked, smoothing out her robes and casting a few warming charms.

"I haven't heard from Rein in a while…" I started. "I wonder if you'd pass her a letter."

"Of course. But really Harry, what's up?"

"Malfoy offered me… an alliance, of sorts. I don't know what his motive is. He implied that he wasn't on Voldemort's side, but I don't know if I can trust him."

Ron snorted. "He's _Malfoy_ Harry. Of course you can't! At least, not farther than you can throw him."

"That's what I thought. I figured I'd see what he had to offer and then make my decision once I was fairly sure of what I might be getting myself into."

Luna nodded sagely. "Sounds like a plan."

"Thing is, he knows things about me that only a privileged few know. He said that he heard it from Granger, but even if he _did_ that doesn't mean she _told_ him."

"He could have just overheard her talking to someone else."

"Exactly."

"What I don't get," Ron said, leaning forward, "is what that has to do with Granger. Sure she's been acting funny lately, but it's not like Voldemort would recruit _her_. She's a Muggleborn!"

I nodded in agreement. "True… but what if he did?"

"You're right, Ron." Luna said after a moment. "Voldemort wouldn't _recruit_ her – she's exactly the kind of person that he's trying to get rid of. But he might _use_ her. Or her likeness, at least."

"Wait… what do you mean, her 'likeness'?"

"I don't think that's Hermione at all. Or if it is, she's under a spell or something. It wouldn't have been hard to do – Dumbledore didn't ward _her_ house this summer. It would have been easy for a Death Eater to get to her."

"You think she's under the Imperious?" Ron asked.

"It's the only thing I can think of that would be efficient. I see her at night for Astronomy, and I've never noticed her drinking or eating anything. I'll look again tonight, just to be sure." She offered.

I nodded. "I'll ask Snape if there have been any developments in Polyjuice or something like it."

"I'll tail her and keep an eye on the map for unfamiliar names. If she's not Hermione, the map should know."

"Right."

Luna stood. "Alright. We have a plan now. I'll see you guys in the morning."

"Here." I said, handing Luna my letter for Rein. "When you have time…"

"I'll post it on my way to Astronomy."

"Thanks." I stood, heading towards the mirror. "See you in Gryffindor Ron. Don't do anything I wouldn't."

Ron was too caught up in Luna to reply.


	39. Ch 38: The Problem With Hermione

**A/N:** I am SO sorry that it's been so long since my last update. For some reason this chapter gave me a hard way to go. BUT it's here now and I hope you like it.

**Chapter 38: The Problem With Hermione**

It wasn't until later that week that I was able to slip Snape a note while turning in my potions essay saying I needed to talk to him. As it turns out, I didn't need to.

"Potter," He barked while making his usual rounds about the classroom, "stay after."

"Yes sir." When class was over I made my way to the front of the class.

"We have a problem." He said after warding the door against eavesdropping.

I stared at Snape, mind whirling with the implications of _that_ statement. "And that is?" I managed to croak out.

"Hermione Granger. She has not been herself lately."

I nodded, pulling a stool from the nearest desk over. "I'd noticed. I was thinking Polyjuice or something."

Snape nodded. "Feasible. But incorrect." He reached into his robes and sat something on the desk with a faint _clink_. "_This_ is the reason for her abnormal behavior."

I stared at the talisman in disbelief. "You're saying she's a Horcrux?" I whispered. _That would explain a lot. But __**how**__?_

"You misunderstand. I am not saying she _is_ a Horcrux, I'm saying that she _has_ one. How she came about it, one can only guess, but we have to relieve her from it. The longer she has it, the more power it will be able to draw from her, and the harder it will be to destroy."

I nodded. "I understand. I'll ask around. Maybe one of the girls in her dorm can give me any hints. Do you think it's another diary? No one would think twice about Hermione carrying a book around with her – she practically lives in the library."

"That's possible, and we certainly shouldn't rule that out, but…" he trailed off, looking to be in deep thought.

"But you don't think it's a book. What else _could_ it be though? It would have to be small enough to carry around, and ordinary enough not to draw attention. There aren't many things that Hermione would carry that meet those requirements."

"What about jewelry?" he said after a while.

"I don't think so. People would wonder who she got it from, and everyone knows that she's not seeing anyone."

"She wouldn't have to be." He countered. "She could easily say that her parents gave it to her for her birthday. It might even be the truth. Since they're Muggles, they wouldn't be able to tell if it was enchanted or not, only what it looked like."

"But how would her parents get a hold of one of Voldemort's Horcruxes? I hardly think he'd just leave them laying around where anyone could get to them."

Snape folded his fingers together in thought. "True enough, but the how isn't the important part. For all we know, it could have been stolen by an enemy, only to be filched by some pickpocket and pawned off for a few quick Knuts. It's that _what_ that's important. If we know what it is, then we can confiscate and destroy it. But it won't be as easy as the banishment we did this summer."

"You call that _easy_?" I exclaimed. "It was bloody painful!"

"For you. It was an easy procedure to perform. Anyone with enough candles and table salt can perform a banishment. Muggles do it all the time."

"So we'd need something more lethal to destroy this one."

"Yes."

Snap was quiet for a moment – probably trying to think of something lethal enough to kill a Horcrux, but still pliable enough to be contained. I finally got tired of the silence, and offered my best solution.

"What about basilisk venom?"

"If we could get our hands on some, it would definitely work."

"Good because there's a dead one lying in the Chamber of Secrets under Myrtles bathroom. I'm not sure it's still intact, but it's worth looking into."

"It shouldn't be. The venom would have preserved it. Under Myrtle's bathroom, you say?"

I nodded. "The entrance is underneath the sink with the snake etched on the tap. It takes a Parselmouth to open it, but I'm sure banishing or detonating the sink would work just as well."

"This weekend then. Try to figure out what the Horcrux is. Once you know, send word. I'll come up with a reason to confiscate it in class."

I nodded. "If you need me to open the Chamber, let me know."

"Of course. I'll see if I can get the ring away from Dumbledore, now that we have a means of destroying it."

"He told you about it?"

"Yes… I just hope he hasn't become too attached to it."

"What if he has?"

An uncomfortable silence met my question.

"Sir?"

I watched as he shook himself free of his thoughts. An immensely distressing look etched itself onto his face, and he sighed mournfully.

"Then I suppose I'll have to take him out with it."

_For all our differences, I hope that it doesn't come down to that._


	40. Ch 39: Trading Faces

**A/N:** This chapter has been a while in the making, and is a bit longer than my chapters for this story normally are, and nearly half again the length of chapter 38. That said, I hope you like it, and as always **review**!

**Chapter 39: Trading Faces**

I couldn't believe it. I didn't _want_ to believe it. All this time we thought Hermione was a traitor…

"What _I _don't get," Ron said as he, Luna, and I mulled around the Room of Requirement, "is how nobody's noticed before. I mean, Malfoy can't be in two places at once – all the Time-Turners were destroyed."

"That's what they say." Luna replied, tapping a quill against her chin thoughtfully. "The Malfoys have a lot of pull in the Ministry; it wouldn't surprise me if they'd managed to knick a few."

I nodded, too shocked by Ron's discovery to say much more than "I need to tell Snape."

"You do that mate." Ron agreed, "Me and Luna will watch the map, and see if we can't figure out a pattern."

"Thanks." I gathered up my books and rose to my feet. "I'll se you in the common room later Ron."

xxx

The trip to the dungeons was largely uneventful, and all too soon I found myself in front of the door to Snape's office. After a moment of hesitation I knocked, praying to whatever was listening that the snarky potions master would be able to come up with a better plan than mine.

"Enter."

"Professor," I began, shutting the door behind me, "I need to speak to you about something very important."

Snape looked up from the papers he was grading and after studying me for a moment, gestured toward a chair and warded the room against eavesdropping.

"Sit." He commanded. "I assume from the look on your face that you come bearing bad news?"

I nodded. "Hermione…"

"Yes?" he prodded when I seemed to have forgotten how to speak. "What about Miss Granger?"

"The Hermione that's here, isn't actually Hermione. We think--"

"We?"

"Me, Ron, and Luna. We think that she was kidnapped during the summer or just before start of term. The Hermione Granger walking the halls of Hogwarts is an imposter, and a very good one at that. We never would have noticed if it wasn't for the map."

"What 'map'?"

"The Marauder's Map. Remus gave it back to me…"

"I see." The dour man stroked his non-existent chin hairs in lost deep in thought. After several moments of silence, I began to worry.

"Sir?"

"Who do you think that the imposter really is? The castle has been warded against Death Eaters – save myself of course – and I don't see how any of them could have gotten away with fooling you and Weasley for as long as they have."

"The castle is warded against _marked_ Death Eaters," I corrected, "and anyone who's had classes with her could mirror her behaviors."

"You're saying that you suspect it to be another student?"

"I'm saying we _know_ it's a student – Malfoy. He shows up on the map wherever 'Hermione' is – even in the common room. I don't know how he managed to be in two places at once – Luna suspects an illegal Time-Turner – but he does and he's the only one who's exhibited strange behavior so far."

"If your conclusion is true, Miss Granger could be long deceased by now. If she isn't, then she'll likely soon be on her way."

"We need to get the Horcrux away from Malfoy." I stressed. "There's nothing we can do for Hermione if we don't have a bargaining chip."

Snape smirked. "What?" he mocked lightly, "No charging in like the foolhardy Gryffindor you are and using brute strength to save the day?"

I shook my head solemnly. "It's too much of a risk. Voldemort could kill her the moment he finds out we're trying to rescue her. I won't take that chance."

"I see. Finally embracing your Slytherin side, are you?"

"Yes sir. Have you figured out what the Horcrux is yet?"

"Yes, it's a locket: gold with the Slytherin mark on it. It shouldn't be too hard to relieve him of it. Now that we know the carrier is Draco, I can simply ask him for it."

"And he'll give it to you? Just like that?" I queried. "What about the Headmaster?"

"I shall send Albus away on a fool's mission if I must. But rest assured I will handle it tonight."

"Thank you Professor. There are not many others that would be willing to risk themselves like this."

The snarky man only sneered in reply.

Xxx

"Potter."

I turned to see Draco Malfoy leaning against the wall opposite Snape's office. _Is he following me?_ "What do you want Malfoy?" I sighed.

"Not much. I just want to… extend the hand of friendship." He answered, crossing the narrow dungeon corridor to stand in front of me.

"Really?" I asked, skeptical of his intentions already.

"Yes. And I come bearing gifts, as it were." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a box. "I believe this belongs to you. Or rather, it belonged to your _family_."

I took the box from him and opened it to find a golden locket engraved with a large, serpentine 'S'. I could feel the evil pulsating from it, and quickly shut the box. "Where did you find this?"

"Umbridge had it and I knicked it from her last year while the Weasley twins were causing chaos in the halls. I knew it for what it was – and who it belonged to – the moment I picked it up. It _radiates_ evil."

I nodded, turning the box over in my hands. "Thanks."

He nodded. "I have another gift for you, but I doubt you'll like it. It's about that Granger girl you always hang around."

"You have news about Hermione? I know you've been impersonating her." I accused.

"It was for the best. If it got out that she wasn't here, the Dark Lord would go looking for her. She's fine, but hidden. I have her, or rather, my mother does. They're in hiding. It's safer for them, this way. I've got a house-elf impersonating Mother, since it'd look suspicious if she couldn't do magic."

"Did you come up with this on your own? Or did someone plan it for you?"

"Severus had nothing to do with it, if that's what you're asking. I know you told him – that for whatever reason, you two are allied now – but I'll have to Obliviate him. The Dark Lord can never know that I've betrayed him; he'll kill Father if he finds out." He said, finding something on the floor extremely fascinating.

"What made you change sides?" I inquired, opting to ignore his momentary weakness, just this once.

"Are we allies?" he asked, "Because if not, I can't trust you."

I looked at the box in my hand. _He __**gave**__ me a Horcrux. Even though he knows what it is and what it could cost him should Voldemort find out, he __**willingly**__ gave me a Horcrux._ "Yes, but you better not betray me." I warned.

"Not likely." He was quiet for a moment, his face taking on a troubled appearance. "He has ordered me to kill Dumbledore. It's impossible – a suicide mission and I know it. He wants me to fail, and when I do, he'll kill me to punish Father for the whole Ministry debacle. Or he'll kill Mother to punish us both."

"But it's a house-elf _impersonating_ your mother." I stated.

"Yes, but once he realizes that, he'll likely kill me for my treachery. Severus has taken an Unbreakable Vow to ensure that the task is completed, even if I'm not the one to do it. If I fail, he'll be under fire as well, since I doubt the Dark Lord knows of the Vow. I could lose my Father, my Godfather, and my life. And all because the batty old Headmaster refuses to lie down and die."

"You couldn't kill him, even if you did have it in you." I said. "Voldemort's not the only one with a Horcrux."

Malfoy paled. "How many?" he croaked.

"Just one. But it's Fawkes, and the only way to kill a Phoenix is to drown it on a Burning Day. They resurrect themselves through fire, so once the fire is lit and the old body is burned, you're shit out of luck. Problem is, they only happen once every couple hundred years, and Fawkes just had one back in second year. Or I suppose you could force one by fatally injuring him… Ask Hermione, she'll know. In the mean time, I'd suggest informing Voldemort of this little hitch, and see what he makes of it."

Malfoy nodded. "Thanks, I think I'll do that."

As I watched him walk away, I couldn't help but wonder at the strangeness of the encounter. _Who knew I'd find and ally in Draco Malfoy of all people?_


	41. Ch 40: Crossing Over

**A/N:** Sorry it's been so long; hope it was worth the wait.

**Chapter 40: Crossing Over**

The talk with Malfoy had left me a little off-balance. My prior enemies – Snape and Draco – were now my allies, my best friend was dating by far the most brilliantly insightful (and odd) girl I'd probably ever meet in my life, and the supposed 'leader of the Light' was fostering a Horcrux in a phoenix. I shook my head and knocked once again on Snape's office door.

"What is it Potter?" he snarled as he glared down at me.

"I have it. I saw him just now, and he gave it to me." There was no need for me to clarify who or what -- there was only one pair that could be considered too important to wait.

"Very well." He said, stepping aside to allow me entry. "I'll see what I can arrange to dispose of it. Albus is away, but the wards on the castle will detect the release of evil and sound an alarm to bring him back. We'll have to go into the forest."

"Well, what are we waiting for! We have to get this done!"

"We have to _wait_." He said, rubbing his eyes wearily. "The full moon is tonight, and there is a clan of werewolves that have settled on the other side of the forest. It would be a suicide mission to release dark energy into the forest tonight. The werewolves would sense it and be drawn right to us, and we'd be sitting ducks because the spell has to be cast by three people simultaneously. If the circle is broken before the spirit is dissolved it could possess one of us or worse – it could possess one of _them_. I imagine that I don't need to tell you how disastrous it would be to have the Dark Lord's spirit in a werewolf's body."

"No you don't." I agreed shuddering. "But what are you going to do with it in the mean time? You can't wear it – it'll only make it harder to destroy."

"I'm not sure… perhaps I could put it in stasis. At least then it won't gain any power. It's not an ideal situation, however…"

I nodded. "It's better than the alternative. So you think that it'll be safe to destroy in a few days? We probably shouldn't wait too long. He might decide to check on it, and then we'll have a whole new pile of shit to sort out."

I watched as Snape placed the entire box in a jar filled with a luminous, semi-liquid substance. "Indeed."

xxx

The next day the Headmaster accosted me in the hall after dinner.

"Harry," Dumbledore said, grabbing my elbow and steering me towards his office, "May I have a word?"

"Of course." I followed him up to his office, all the while wondering what the old man was up to this time. After I took the offered seat (and declined the tea and sweets) I gave my full attention to the Headmaster.

"Harry, it has come to my attention that you are more… mature than you were before, and that I am no doubt at least partially responsible. I should not have left you with the Dursleys, nor should I have allowed you to return there year after year. I should have told you about the prophecy when you first asked all those years ago, but…" here he trailed off, eyes gazing unfocused at some fixed point behind me. Shaking his head, he continued. "It doesn't matter _why_ I didn't tell you, all that matters is that I put you and your friends in danger by keeping it from you. I know that Sirius meant to you more than perhaps anyone else had in your life, and I know that in keeping the details of the prophecy from you coupled with keeping him in an environment that he'd loathed since childhood, I contributed to his death. For that, and for the other transgressions against you that I have committed, I am truly remorseful."

I surveyed Dumbledore with no small amount of suspicion. Of all the things that I'd imagined I'd hear, an apology was not one of them.

"Something's happened, hasn't it?" I whispered, afraid. Of all the things that he could have said – of all the things that he _had_ said – this apology made me extremely uneasy. It almost sounded as if the old man was trying to make amends now because he didn't think he'd be around to do it later. _But that couldn't be true, could it? He'd have to have either lost or used his Horcrux in order for that to happen._ No sooner had the thought manifested itself had my eyes sought the perch where Fawkes normally sat.

"Ah." The Headmaster said, following my gaze. "The curse from Riddle's ring was killing me, and I have too much to teach you – too much time to make up for not to save myself if I could. Fawkes will be in recovery for quite some time, and I do not plan to make another."

"But that doesn't mean you won't." I accused.

He smiled ruefully. "I only made the first to ensure that I would live long enough to pass my knowledge of Tom on to you. If Death comes to call before I have completed that task, then perhaps I will make another, and perhaps I will not. I cannot say for certain what I will do in the future."

"I understand. What is it you wish to teach me?"

"History." He stated simply.

"History? I don't understand." I admitted confused.

"I will impart to you my knowledge of the history of Tom Marvolo Riddle, for if we fail to learn from the past, then we are doomed to repeat it. I never truly fulfilled my destiny. Gellert and I… there was too much of a history between us, and I still fancied that he could be rehabilitated; that with enough time he would become the man that he once was. I was destined to slay him, but when it came down to it, I couldn't. The world lauds me as a hero, but in truth I am a coward. I was afraid that killing him would make me just as bad and that once the newness of salvation had worn off, society would hunt me like they had him. So I liberated society, but I never realized my destiny and have instead burdened someone else's shoulders with it. I have burdened _your_ shoulders with it. Voldemort is not the only Dark Lord you need to destroy, Harry. If you do not do what I could not, Tom will gain from Gellert knowledge that he did not have in the first war, and upon acting on it make himself invincible. I wish that I had displayed as much courage facing my destiny as you have when facing yours, and I wish that I did not have to ask you to finish what I dare not, but I know that given the choice, I could never strike down Gellert. For all the evil he has done, he still holds my heart in his own, and I cannot look upon him without seeing him as he once was."

I closed my eyes against the budding headache that Dumbledore's request had summoned. _I better have a damn good afterlife waiting for me when I die._

"Harry?" he asked, sounding concerned. "I know that it's a lot to ask, but--"

"I'll do it." I stated, eyes snapping open to hold his gaze. "I'll do it. All that I ask is that you don't keep anymore secrets from me about Voldemort, the war, or myself, and that you stay out of my way and let me do this the way I want."

His shoulders sagged in relief. "Of course. If there is any way that I can assist you in fulfilling your destiny, please let me know. I owe you at least that much."

I agreed and took my leave of his office. Once the gargoyle had shut behind me I sighed in angry frustration. _Why is it always me?_


	42. Ch 41: Loose Ends

**A/N:** This chapter was really hard to read and write. And it's only 800 words! Gah! I'd wanted to make it longer, but it seems that this story just isn't as easy to write for these days...

**Chapter 41: Loose Ends**

It was all over the _Prophet _the next day. "Mysterious Assassin Sends House-Elf to take out former Dark Lord". There were people who were applauding this 'assassin', saying that it was about time that someone had enough sense to get rid of the old fart. There were others who were so naïve that they actually believed that a war could be won without casualties; that if we just sat Voldemort down and asked nicely he'd stop terrorizing the country and leave us all alone. If only it were that simple.

I felt bad about it, myself. I hadn't wanted to ask it of Kreacher, especially seeing as how he'd just gotten his sanity back, but I realized early on that unlike my nemesis I don't have friends in high places that can get me into extremely secures areas. I had to do the next best thing – enlist the help of someone that was so far under the radar as to not be noticed. A House-elf was exactly that. The main flaw in humanity is our tendency to classify anyone unlike us as inferior. No one is more adept at this than Wizards. They believe that since House-elves are bound to humans as servants that they cannot commit acts that could be seen as 'bad', and therefore never bother to take any reasonable precautions against it. Until the article detailing the assassination of one Gellert Grindewauld, that is.

"What do you think Harry?" Ron asked around a mouthful of eggs at breakfast.

"I think that you should chew with your mouth closed, because _that_," I admonished while gesturing to the front of his shirt, "is _disgusting_."

Ron merely rolled his eyes and vanished the droppings of food from his robes. "I meant about Grindewauld."

"I think that it's unfortunate."

"How so?" Neville chimed in, helping himself to another piece of toast.

"Well… he used to be a Dark Lord right? His death can mean two things: that Voldemort tortured him for information and then killed him once he was no longer useful, _or_ that someone else killed him to keep Voldemort from getting to him. Either way, the man is dead and any information he could have had for defeating Voldemort is also dead. So while his death _could_ mean that Voldemort never received any instruction on how to win this war quickly, it _definitely_ means that _we_ didn't, and we could use all the help we can get."

Neville nodded thoughtfully. "But what if the assassin was on our side? What if they interrogated Grindewauld themselves? Wouldn't that give us the upper hand?"

"Only if the information gained wasn't something we already knew," Ron said shrugging. "Otherwise it would have been a waste. So," he continued after a few moments of silence, "who are you blokes taking to Hogsmead next weekend?"

**Xxx**

"It's done." Snape murmured as he passed my cauldron a week after news of Grindewauld's death made front-page news. I nodded, masking my acknowledgement as embarrassment over some fault or another. As the dour man swept on, I glanced across the aisle, catching Draco's eye and giving him the most subtle look of victory that I could manage. The blonde Slytherin only sneered half-heartedly in response.

Once classes let out for the day, I met up with Ron and Luna to brainstorm on our next course of action.

"I'm telling you Harry," Ron insisted, "you're going to have to ask Dumbledore for help. I know what he did to you for 'the greater good', and I know that he was wrong to have done it, but the three of us just don't have the resources to figure out what the other three Horcruxes are."

"But Ron--"

"He's right Harry," Luna said, placing her hand gently on my arm. "Just because you don't like Dumbledore or agree with his methods doesn't mean that you should discount him as an ally. He's still on our side, fighting for the same thing that we are. And the three of us are just students; we wouldn't be able to leave school grounds to per sue any leads even if we had them! It would look to suspicious and only draw attention to that which we need to keep hidden. Working with people you don't exactly see eye-to-eye with is part of life, so you might as well get used to it."

I sighed in defeat. I knew that they were right, I just didn't want them to be. Dumbledore had wronged me greatly, and being at his mercy wasn't something that I wanted to experience again if I could help it. But I guess that in this case I couldn't. Outvoted and outdebated, I nodded and hung my head in defeat.

"Fine," I said at last, "I'll work with the manipulating old coot."


	43. Ch 42: The Plan

**A/N:** To commemorate 'Replace My Life's 200th review, I give you a brand new chapter. It's not long, but trust me, it's worth the read. (Or at least I hope it is…)

**Chapter 42: The Plan**

"Harry, m'boy!" Dumbledore exclaimed in surprise, "What brings you here?"

"I did what you asked. Now, you have to do _me_ a favor."

The old man sat back in his chair, the twinkle sucked out of him by the knowledge that he owed me a favor. "Yes… I suppose I do. What is it you wish of me?"

I settled myself into the chair across from him and pulled out a sheet of parchment and a quill. "I need to know everything you do about Tom Riddle. I have a device that will allow for Professor Snape to leave school grounds and retrieve the Horcrux, but it's not fool-proof. If old Voldy is anywhere near, the talisman will take Snape to him instead. That would look suspicious."

"Indeed. Well, I see you came prepared." He murmured, gesturing towards my writing utensils. "Can I offer you any refreshments? This is going to take a while."

**Xxx**

It was nearly dinner time when I stumbled out of the Headmaster's office, mind whirring with the knowledge that I'd gained. There were so many similarities… so many parallels drawn between us… If we'd written autobiographies, they'd read like the lives of a set twins separated not by distance, but by time. I was an orphan; he was an orphan. I was unwanted by my caretakers, _he_ was unwanted by _his_ caretakers. I wanted the kind of life that I'd only dreamed of, and Tom had wanted the same. We both wanted to be accepted, and we both wanted power. For me, gaining power meant that I would never have to live with the Dursleys or wear Dudley's hand-me-downs again. For Tom, the attainment of power meant that he would never be scorned or looked down upon again. We wanted the same thing, for very nearly the same reason, but my definition of power was different from his. In the end, his quest for power gave me what he'd always craved: fame and reverence. All his life, the only thing he'd _really_ wanted was for someone to look up to him – to respect him. People had loved Tom Riddle, and his fall in 1981 gave me the fame he'd fought so hard for, all the while depriving me of the one thing that I'd come to wish for more than anything else: love. If I could trade places with him… if I could give him my fame in exchange for the devotion of his followers, I would do it. In a heartbeat, I would do it. In reality, as warped as it seems, the one thing I want is what he has, and the thing he wants is what I've got.

The irony was nearly too much to bear.

"I know how to beat him." I said as I joined Ron and Luna after dinner in what had become our new hideaway. "I know how to beat Voldemort."

"Well?" Ron asked impatiently after several moments of silence. "Are you going to tell us or not?"

"We can't stand each other," I said, still half-dazed at the revelation. "We can't stand each other, and it's not because of our differences. It's because of our similarities. We both have the same sort of history, and the same person is to blame. Well, not the same _person_ – not exactly – but the Minister and Headmaster of his time are to blame for _his_ suffering the same way that Dumbledore and Fudge are to blame for mine. He wanted fame, and he gave me that. I wanted to be loved, and never had it at home because of what made me famous. Neither of us wanted to be a burden; neither of us wanted to be shunned for being different. But we both _were_. And we both can have what we want… All I have to do is find a way to make it happen. We both needed a loving, Wizarding home to grow up in. We both needed good friends… we both needed to be recognized for what we did… We look enough alike. It could work…"

The feel of Luna's hand on my arm startled me out of my thoughts. "What could work Harry?"

"Going back. No, really just… just listen for a second Ron." I pled, hoping to explain myself.

"Alright," he said, "I'm listening, but it better be good."

"If I go back in time and kidnap Tom Riddle from the orphanage, then go _forward_ in time and leave him on my parent's doorstep, the they would take him in and raise him as their own. They'd raise us as brothers. There never would have been a Tom Riddle in the thirties to go evil, and so there would have never been a Voldemort to kill my parents, and we'd both get what we wanted. I would get a loving family, and Tom would be raised in a prestigious, pureblooded household. His status would be upgraded, and he would have the respect that he'd craved so desperately when he was a child. Instead of trying to _fix_ the problem, I'll just go back in time and make sure it _never happens_!"

"That's brilliant Harry!" Ron exclaimed, slapping me on the back. "There's just one problem: where are you going to get a Time-Turner? The ones at the Ministry were destroyed last summer, remember?"

I stared at Ron, and in my mind's eye I saw my shiny new plan get viciously sucked down the drain. _That would be a problem, wouldn't it?_

"Well..." Luna gathered,"I suppose we could try to _make_ one..."


	44. Ch 43: Back to the Drawing Board

**A/N:** I put up a poll on my profile page to see what direction that readers would prefer to have this story go, but it's been a month and no one has bothered voting (or even looking at it, as far as I can tell), so I decided on my own. A month is a long time to go without updating, and I figured I'd put something up before the story started losing readers.

As always, reviews are appreciated.

**Chapter 43: Back to the Drawing Board**

"This isn't working." Ron huffed angrily. The three of us had been trying for weeks to make a Time-Turner, but nothing we did seemed to work. We were out of ideas, and worse, we were running out of time.

"The attacks are coming daily now." Luna whispered, her voice devoid of its usual softness. Her clear grey eyes, normally calm and insightful, were now filled with despair. Of the three of us, Luna's situation was the most dire. Her father, Xenophilius, was the editor of _The Quibbler_ -- a Wizarding magazine that had recently taken to reporting accurate (and highly disturbing) information regarding to the activities of Voldemort and his Death Eaters. This of course, made him quite the target, and every day that passed with Voldemort as a threat brought her father closer to danger.

"What now?" Ron said, looking every bit as frustrated as I felt. "We've tried everything we can think of!"

"We go back to the original plan." I answered.

Ron stared at me like I'd grown another head. "You mean we just give up? How can you say that after all the work we've done? I mean, I know It looks… well… _hopeless_, but that doesn't mean we should just quit!"

I sighed tiredly. "Ron, you said yourself that it wasn't working, and I agree. Maybe we could do some more research and try again, and _keep_ trying until it works, but that takes time, and Ron, we don't _have_ time. Every day that Voldemort goes undefeated makes his success even more likely. Every day that he isn't stopped, people will die. Too many have died already, and I for one refuse to sit in a lab trying to 'undo' the travesty that is Voldemort while innocent lives are lost. Maybe one day when we have the time we'll find a way to make another Time-turner, but we don't have the luxury of that right now. We're at _war_, and the longer it takes to end it the less likely it will be that when it _does_ end it'll be in our favor. Tell me – what's the point of winning a war if everything you've fought so hard to protect is only ashes in the end? We _have_ to act _now_. If we can end this quickly, then the people we fight to protect might still come out of this alive. Right now, seeing that happen is more important than fixing the past so that Tom Riddle never became Voldemort."

"I agree with Harry," Luna stated, "We don't have time for the 'maybes' and 'what ifs'. Voldemort is a threat that needs to be stopped _now_, before the situation becomes more impossible than it already is."

Ron nodded solemnly. "I suppose you're right, but still… it was a good plan. I just wish it could have worked. My mum lost both her brothers in the first war – I'd give them back to her if I could."

"I know." I murmured. "There's nothing I want more than to have grown up with my own parents instead of the Dursleys."

"Yeah…"

Silence descended upon the three of us. Each of us had lost someone close to us – and was in danger of losing more – during Voldemort's first reign. It wasn't fair or right by any stretch of the imagination, but it had happened, and it took something out of us to give up looking for a way to get back what we'd lost. _'It's only for now.' _I promised myself. _'I'll find a way to put things right after the war is over.'_

Somehow, I knew that Ron and Luna had promised themselves the same.

**Xxx**

"Hey, Potter!"

I turned to see Draco Malfoy approaching, and smiled in astonishment. It still amazed me that we were working on the same side in this war.

"What are you smiling about?" he inquired once he caught up.

I only shook my head. "Nothing really. I just can't believe that we're friends of sorts. We used to hate each other."

The blonde scoffed. "We aren't _friends_," he corrected, "more like business partners. We don't actually _like_ one another, we just have common interests. And I wouldn't go so far as to say that I _hated_ you – more like despised."

"And there's a difference?" I asked, smirking.

"Of course there is," he answered calmly, "_Hate_ implies that I wish you dead or tortured, and that I would be willing to commit either act myself. _Despise_, on the other hands, means that I only wish to see that self-satisfied smirk wiped off of your face when you realize that I've bested you."

"Ah," I nodded sagely, "I see. What was it you needed again? Besides the witty banter, of course."

The Slytherin rolled his eyes. "As if a _Gryffindor_ could be _witty_. No, I came to tell you that I have another one for your collection, and am willing to part with it at your earliest convenience. "

"Thanks. Meet me in the Trophy Room after dinner, and I'll be happy to relieve you of it."

Draco nodded firmly and, turning down an adjoining corridor, disappeared from sight. I shook my head amused.

'_Working with Draco Malfoy – I never thought I'd see the day!'_


	45. Ch 44: The Trophy Room

**A/N:** It's been a while since I updated this. It got away from me for a bit, but I managed to catch it again. I know it's likely not as long as you'd like, but it's all I have for right now. Hopefully now that I'm back on track I can get this finished soon.

**Chapter 44: The Trophy Room**

When I met Malfoy that evening it was raining outside, and the light of the half moon made the entire room feel like a sunken pirate ship. It was an interesting effect to be sure, but it was also a little off-putting. The distorted light flickered this way and that, and I couldn't help but think that if I had to duel under these conditions, I'd be sunk.

"Potter."

I spun around, drawing my wand so fast that I found myself surprised to have it in my hand at all. Constant vigilance – Moody would be proud.

"Don't sneak up like that!" I hissed, mindful that Filch was likely prowling somewhere nearby.

Malfoy only smirked. "I'm a Slytherin," he said, casually leaning against a trophy case, "it's what we do."

"Yeah well…" I was at a lost for a comeback, so I simply asked "Did you bring it?"

"Right down to business, are we? One would think you didn't enjoy my company. I'm hurt Potter --- I thought I meant something to you." He drawled, reaching into his robes and pulling out a bag that reeked evil. "I wouldn't touch it with your bare hands, if I were you. I think it's got some sort of blistering curse on it."

"I'll keep that in mind." I replied, peering into the leather pouch. Inside was a golden cup. It had two handles – one on each side – and the Hufflepuff crest emblazoned on it. It was slightly tarnished, as if it had sat somewhere collecting dust for quite a while, and gave off an aura so menacing that it made my eyes water.

If the bile rising in the back of my throat was anything to go by, it was _definitely_ a Horcrux -- and one of his later ones, at that. I shut the bag quickly, and the feeling of evil lessened somewhat.

"Thanks." I said, feeling kind of peaky. "Five down, two to go. After that, it's just old Voldy himself that's left."

Draco blanched. "He made _seven_ of those?" the blonde shuddered, his whole body seeming to shimmer in the watery light. "_Disgusting_!"

"Tell me about it. Have you figured out how to do the old man in?"

"No, and I don't think I will either. Not if what you said about his phoenix is true."

"You don't have to worry about Fawkes," I said, throwing my invisibility cloak over my head and moving into the corridor, "he used that one so that he could get his health back. He said he wanted to be around long enough to tell me everything he knew about Voldemort."

"Do you believe him? What if it's just something he's saying to get your trust back?" he asked, lips barely moving as we walked down the hallway. To anyone passing by, it would look like the Slytherin Prefect was simply out on a moonlit stroll. For a moment, I wondered at how much easier getting rid of the Horcruxes would have been if I had been a Prefect instead of Ron.

"Potter?"

"I think he's telling the truth. Maybe not about his reasons, but definitely about using it. I saw for my own eyes that Fawkes had returned to a chick, and that the hand that was withered at the beginning of term was healed. Even Snape hadn't been able to do that, and he's probably the best Potions Master on this side of the continent."

Draco nodded. "Now that you mention it, I do recall his hand looking dead at the Welcoming Feast, and it looked fine at breakfast. Maybe I can do this after all. Do you know what the others are yet?"

"Nagini for sure, and if Dumbledore is to be believed, then something of Ravenclaw's as well."

"He'll keep his pet close." Draco mused, turning down a hallway that was completely barren. Here, the only decorations were the windows, and even those were the simple, box pane kind. There were no portraits, suits of armor, or sculptures. The corridor was long, but not so long that the moonlight on the opposite end didn't reach this one.

"Where are we?" I asked, having never seen this particular corridor before. There were no doors, and no point at all, seeing as how the other end looked to be a dead end.

"You'll see. The Weasleys don't know of _all_ the secret passages. This is where I come to think. And plot."

For a moment, the sound of Draco's footsteps were the only sound to be heard.

"You were saying something about Nagini." I reminded.

"Yes, he'll keep her close. The only way to kill her without being near him would probably be to poison her. The poison would have to be tasteless and odorless, and we'd likely have to find a way to put it into something she would eat. Like a rodent or small bird."

"That's a great plan, but how would we get to her in the first place? It's unlikely that even if we _did_ know where he was keeping her that he'd just let anybody walk up and feed her. Could you imagine how suspicious _that_ would look?"

"True… I'll see what I can do."

Draco stopped at a patch of wall and tapped a complicated pattern onto it, causing the wall to glow dimly then rearrange itself into an archway. It reminded me of Diagon Alley's entrance, and when I stated as much to Draco, he simply laughed and asked where I thought Tom had gotten the idea.

"After me, of course." He said, sauntering in like he owned the place.

And what a place it was. Opposite the door was a large, ornate fireplace that roared to life the second the archway closed behind us. The furnishings were similarly ornate, all done up in shades of gold and purple. The entire room was decadent and, despite it obvious abandonment, spotless.

"This," Draco drawled, throwing himself down onto one of the plush couches, "is my thinking room. It used to be guest quarters or perhaps staff housing, but like all the other rooms down this corridor it's been deserted in favor of those closer to where the action is. It's a shame really – the rooms are quite nice. Cozy even."

I nodded and sat across from him, in a chair that looked like it was made in the 1700s. "It is nice. You said there were other rooms?"

"Yes, but I can show you those later." He said dismissively. "Right now, we need to figure out a plan to identify and eliminate the remaining two Horcruxes, not to mention a senile old Headmaster."

"And exactly how do you propose we do such a thing?" I inquired, leaning forward in interest.

"Well…" he smirked, a devious glint in his eye, "I thought you'd never ask…"


	46. Ch 45: The Beginning of the End

**Chapter 45: The Beginning of the End**

Malfoy was well informed, that was for sure.

His plan for getting rid of Nagini was simple: call in my life-debt from Wormtail, and make _him_ do it. He was the one who fed the bloody snake anyway, so it wouldn't look odd if he approached it. And if there was something mixed into the food, who was he to blame?

"Brilliant." I breathed, amazed at the extent of Draco's 'contacts'.

"Yes," he replied, picking a bit of imaginary lint off of his clothes, "I know. But it's nice you know it too."

"Prat." I accused, amused.

"Hey now, there's no need for all that. _You're_ the one that said it, I'm just agreeing."

"Again – prat." I shook my head in wonder. A few months back, if someone had asked what I thought of Draco Malfoy I'd probably have pulled a face and told them just how horrible and self-serving I thought he was. Now if someone asked, I'd probably tell him that he was funny, and a good person to be around, if not a little sneaky.

"So, I solved your problem, now you solve mine. How do you kill a hundred-fifty-plus-year-old war hero?"

And self-serving, let's not forget that.

"You poison him, of course." I said as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"He'll never fall for that." Draco scoffed. "His enemies must have tried that a thousand times by now."

"Yes, but it won't be his enemies that do it. It'll be his apprentice."

One pale brow arched upwards in surprise. "You're going to poison Albus Dumbledore." It wasn't even a question – more like a statement of disbelief. I shrugged by way of response.

"You scratch my back, I scratch yours. You pick the poison, I'll use it to coat some of those lemon drops that he's so fond of, and send them to him alongside my condolences for his recently-deceased lover."

"So that _was_ you." Again, not so much a question as a statement. "It seems the Golden Boy isn't quite as 'golden' as he appears."

"Me, 'golden'? More like bronze, if anything. And tarnished at that. After spending the past umpteen years suffering in ignorant silence in Durzkaband, my valor could definitely use a little polishing."

"Durzkaband?" he queried. "I assume you are referring to your relatives?"

I shrugged. "According to one old meddling Headmaster, it was for the '_greater good_'."

The blond only shook his head in what could have either been pity or morbid fascination. I decided on the latter, since my pride wouldn't allow me to take the other lying down. "I'll never understand why you insist on fighting for them, Harry. Honestly, after the way they treated you…"

"How do you know how they treated me?" I asked, defensive and not a little suspicious.

"News like that travels fast in the circles I run in. We are the Ministry, after all, and the Government has eyes everywhere -- even on Privet Drive."

"I see." And I did, kind of. I had been too preoccupied at the time (having been entered illegally into a tournament that was obviously outside of my skill set, by someone probably trying to kill me), but looking back I realized with a start that not only had my first Hogwarts letters been addressed to 'Harry Potter, The Cupboard Under the Stairs, Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey', but Rita Skeeter had commented that I should 'feel right at home' sitting in a broom closet.

"If you knew -- or rather, if the Ministry knew – why did no one try to do anything to change it? Why leave me to suffer?"

"Because we had no choice. My father might have had pull over the Minister at the time, but the Minister's decisions on things regarding the public – even if they only directly affected a single citizen – are subject to review by the Wizengamot. No matter how hard he lobbied in your favor, my father – nor anyone else – could sway the Wizengamot to your cause. Dumbledore's opinions were too highly respected, and without any proof we had no case. Actually, it likely wouldn't have succeeded even is we _did_ have proof, he was so adamant about keeping you there. My father would come home from the Ministry practically quivering in suppressed rage at the way the Wizengamot so blissfully turned a blind eye to your plight."

"If he's such a good man, why did he try to kill me?" I asked, mulling over this new information.

"Did he? I thought it was my father who agreed to allow you and your friends go free."

"He did, but that doesn't excuse the spells he was slinging everywhere."

Draco sighed. "You must understand, my father was only doing his job. He has to, to keep up appearances. It wasn't his idea to take Bellatrix with him that night – _that_ brilliant piece of insight came from the Dark Lord last minute. Bella is unstable at best, and completely unsuited to any task that doesn't involve torture and chaos. My father was going for subtle – Bella and the others were more of a hindrance than a help. If it makes you feel batter, my mother visited him for the brief time he was in Azkaban and ripped him a new one for allowing Bella to escape unharmed after killing your godfather. They may not have been close, but he was family, and my mother has very strong views on such things. Views made stronger still by her family's rapidly dwindling numbers."

"Bellatrix will die. I swear on my honor that I will see her dead by the end of this."

Draco only nodded, humming in quiet agreement. "One step at a time." He said after several moments of quiet contemplation. "One step at a time."

I returned his nod with one of my own. "Hopefully one step at a time will keep us one step ahead."

Draco turned his gaze to the bright fire crackling away between us, and said nothing.

**Xxx**

Standing in the Owlery, I watched as a nondescript school owl took off into the night. In its talons it held my missive to Wortail, which, after consulting one blond Slytherin, was worded to invoke the Life-Debt the wretched little traitor owed me. Although the bird eventually faded from view, the words that I'd so carefully penned had not.

_Dear Wormtail,_

_I, Harry James Potter, herein known as the Collector, call upon the Powers that Be to enforce the Rite of Repayment upon Peter Scott Pettigrew, the Debtor. The Debtor shall perform for the Collector the task of their choosing, and upon the completion of the task set upon the Debtor by the Collector, the Powers that Be shall consider the Debt repaid. _

_Peter Scott Pettigrew, you have been tasked with the disposal of Lord Voldemort's snake, Nagini. Should you fail this task in my lifetime, the Debt you owe shall be held in Trust by the Powers the Be until such a time that the Debt can be considered repaid. Should you complete the task set before you, the Debt shall be voided, and all compulsions to see it fulfilled removed by the Powers that Be._

_I bid you good luck, you shall need it._

_Harry J. Potter_

Hopefully he would be successful, and we could gain the upper hand in this war. If not… _'Well… I'll cross that bridge when I come to it.'_

I sincerely hoped I didn't.


	47. Ch 46: The Return of Wormtail

**Chapter 46: The Return of Wormtail**

Two weeks after I sent off my request to Pettigrew, a letter came in the post alongside my usual copy of the _Prophet_.

_Mr. Potter, _it read, _it has come to my attention that the hostage you provided, one Peter Pettigrew escaped from his cell in Azkaban last night. Since you have a personal history with him, I thought to inform you of the situation and warn you to be on your guard. We know neither why nor how he escaped, and it is possible that he may seek revenge. _

_Amelia Bones, Head of the Department of Magical Lew Enforcement_

"What's that about?" Seamus asked, indicating my letter.

"Just a letter from the DMLE. I'm thinking about entering the Auror training program," I lied, "maybe it'll give me an edge."

"Maybe." Seamus shrugged.

Dean leaned across the table, the _Prophet_ clutched in one hand. "Did you hear? Peter Pettigrew escaped from Azkaban! He's the second one to have done it without any help. Do you think he's going back to You-Know-Who?"

"Most likely," I replied, buttering my toast and flipping to the Sports section. "It's not like he's got anywhere else to go."

"I wonder how he got out though," Dean wondered, looking around as if the answer would write itself in the air. "Don't you?"

I shrugged. I knew exactly how he'd escaped, but I wasn't going to tell him. "Sure. Hey, Ron – the Cannons actually _won_ a game!"

Ron snatched the paper out of my hands, skimmed the article, and proceeded to do a victory dance around the Great Hall.

"Maybe it's a sign." Neville mused quietly. "Maybe things are changing for the better."

I leaned back in my seat, eyes turned towards the enchanted ceiling. It showed a flock of birds flying across a clear sky. "Maybe."

**xxx**

It was Halloween by the time I received word from Pettigrew. The note was short and came with a package wrapped in shiny black paper with a acid greed bow perched on top.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that Voldemort sent you an anniversary present." Neville teased, a hint of a smile on his face. I just shook my head at his antics.

"If he did that's too bad – I certainly didn't get one for him."

Ron nudged me, gesturing with his fork at the note. "Well, get on with it already."

Shrugging, I removed the neon green envelope from the top of the box. Inside it was a black card that read "It's done. Here's proof and a souvenir. Hope you don't mind if I kept the rest, I need the money. Tell MOM not to worry about me – I'm taking off to a remote corner somewhere, and don't plan on returning in this lifetime. I won't miss you." There was no signature, just a glass vial with a silvery substance in it. I tucked the memory away in my robes for safekeeping, and picked up the box.

"Ron, I'll meet you and Luna at the Spot. There's something I need to do first." I said, catching Draco's eye from across the room and indicating the door. As I stood to leave, I sent a look in Snape's direction. Whatever was in this box, I'm sure he'd want to see it.

**xxx**

When I arrived at the Spot, Ron and Luna were already waiting for me. "What's in the box Harry?" Luna asked, tilting her head sideways as if looking from a different angle would allow her to see through it.

"No idea," I replied. "But I want to open it somewhere away from prying eyes with Snape around just in case whatever it is happens to be dangerous."

"Potter." Draco drawled, sauntering up to us with Snape in tow.

"Malfoy, Professor." I replied, inclining my head in their direction. "I was hoping we could go to that room you showed me the other night."

Draco shrugged elegantly. "This way."

The blonde set a brisk pace, and we arrived in the abandoned corridor in no time at all. "So," he said. "What's in the box?"

"I'm not sure what's in it, but what I _am _sure of is that it isn't the kind of thing I should open in a room full of students. Pettigrew sent it, and if I had to hazard a guess based on the card that came with it, it likely had a great ruddy snake corpse in it."

"A thrilling as this is, _I_ am not a student," Snape sneered crossing his arms, "and as such do not have the liberty of being able to disappear for extended periods of time without suspicion. So please, do get on with it."

I nodded, opting to simply open the box instead of replying. Inside the box were two things: Naigini's head, sans fangs, and a pensive. I removed the pensive from the box and poured the memory into it. "Shall we?" Ron and Luna exchanged hesitant looks, but nonetheless decided to join Snape, Draco and myself inside the memory.

It was disgusting. Apparently Pettigrew had not had any suitable poisons on hand, and had resorted to a more unconventional yet effective solution.

"I can't believe he fed himself to Naigini." Ron shuddered looking a little green. "It gives new meaning to going 'into the belly of the beast'."

"That wasn't very funny Ronald." Luna said. "Besides, while his actions may have been uncanny, they were also very brave. It's not every day that you see someone willing to go to the lengths that he did to get the job done. It's quite admirable really…"

"Yeah, but it wasn't very smart." Ron countered, "What if he hadn't been able to transform back? What if had gotten stuck in his Animagus form?"

"He didn't," Draco sighed, "and that's all that matters. We'd all better get going before someone notices we're gone and decides to come looking for us. Especially you Professor—I'm sure Dumbledore is wondering where you got off to by now."

After saying our goodbyes, we all headed our separate ways, and despite my curiosity I did not follow Professor Snape to the dungeons to see just what he planned to do with Nagini's head. Instead, I turned down the second corridor, slipped behind a tapestry of a sleeping Hippocampus, and followed the secret passage to it's end on the second floor.

I had a Headmaster to see.


	48. Ch 48: As Luck Would Have It

**Chapter 47: As Luck Would Have It**

I came upon the last Horcrux completely by accident.

It was late November, and we – Snape, Dumbledore, and I – had run out of ideas where the last Horcrux might be, or even what it _was_. Frustrated, I had taken to pacing the corridors at night in hopes that the moonlight and silence would provide some insight.

I'd even tried Divination, to no avail. Wherever the last Horcrux was, it was a place where Snape couldn't Apparate or Portkey to, so the talisman wasn't doing us a lick of good.

The night I found the last Horcrux I was up on the seventh floor, trying to get to the Room of Requirement before Filch and his blasted cat caught up with me. I hadn't thought to bring my cloak with me tonight since Astronomy provided me with a reason to be out late on Thursdays.

It was just my luck that Sinistra had tripped on a stray inkwell and broken her ankle going down the stairs.

Once I reached the spot where the Room's door would appear, I immediately began pacing.

_I need a place to hide, I need a place to hide. _

When I'd passed by the space a third time, the door appeared, and I ran in and shut it behind me. Leaning against the door, I listened as Filch grumbled about having lost me and stalked off. As I was about to leave, my foot bumped into something and sent it rolling across the floor. Turning, I realized that I was in a room I'd never been to before.

The place was huge, and messy, with a coat of dust covering most everything. From floor to ceiling, in every place imaginable there were items that people had hidden and then forgotten about. Trunks, Fanged Frisbees, books, robes, bird cages – anything that a person would want to hide away for safe keeping. There were even several cases of what appeared to be Firewhiskey! And there, atop the notorious Vanishing Cabinet, radiating evil like a demented Sun, was a tiara. As I approached it, I wondered at my luck. _The strangest things happen to me, but since this is exactly what I needed I won't complain._ Once I'd picked my way across the cluttered room, I snagged a garishly pink lacy… _thing_ and used it to protect my hands while I removed the tiara from its perch. An inscription on it proclaimed that _"Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure"_.

I snorted. _Sounds like something a Ravenclaw would say._ Looking around I found a bag to stow it in and made my way back to the door. After making sure that Filch and his thrice damned cat were nowhere in sight, I hurriedly made my way to Snape's office.

"It's late," he said by way of greeting. I slid past him into the office and shut the door.

"I have it," I answered, setting the bag on his desk. "I found the last Horcrux."

**Xxx**

After relating my tale to the Professor, we proceeded to destroy the tiara, dissolving it in a cauldron full of Basilisk venom.

"Now," he said, peering over the edge of the cauldron at the sludge that was left behind, "all we need is to kill Voldemort."

"Easier said than done." I replied rubbing my eyes tiredly. It was past one in the morning, and I had class with McGonagall first thing.

"Get some rest. We can work out the next step tomorrow night.' I only nodded and made my way out the door and back up to Gryffindor tower.

Happily, I managed to avoid Filch.


End file.
